Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the majority of his medical career he was happy, spending a countless amount of years on the mainland as the Chief Medical officer, nothing seemed to be able to get in his way. For years he patched up the weak and weary, never thinking it would all come to a near halt because of his own lack of self care.

        Arthritis set in early, a little too early as the first signs of it had arisen in his late twenties, only progressing through his thirties. At first the pain had been manageable, nothing a hot soak in epsom salt couldn't remedy.

        It had bought him maybe another ten years before his joints started to cramp and pop, leaving his fingers and wrists stiff and unmovable for long periods of time. It had only been a matter of time that years of day and night shifts with little to no break caught up with him, leaving his hands aching and immobile on the more difficult days.

        For a while he was able to work around it, having his students do the brunt of the work while he watched and guided them, but it was only a matter of time before people figured it out, and he would be forced to retire.

        The knowledge of his failing hands weighed down heavy on him considering he was still too young to fully retire and his work was his life. He was confident that his interns were well equipped to take over when he was gone... but was he really ready to pass the torch so early?

        Depression lingered over his head each day closer to his final, leaving him lethargic and significantly more grumpy than usual. When his hands acted up, he responded to them with rage, squeezing them and cursing at them for not functioning.

        It hadn't been until the last few days of working that a fisherman with a hook stuck through his hand gave him a flicker of hope.

        Surrounding the mainland were several smaller islands, some so small they only housed a thousand or less people even during the summer. Due to the island's small size, buildings such as hospitals were never built, often forcing sick island dwellers to take the ferry to the mainland. The ferry ride was about an hour each way to each island, making it rather inconvenient for any fisherman who just needed a hook removed and a few stitches.

        An old doc like Ratchet could benefit greatly from opening a small clinic on one of the islands; since the work would be simple it wouldn't strain his hands as much as it did working in the ER. A few stitch jobs a week, maybe some small procedures he could handle on his own just fine, it would be a perfect way to coast himself into actual retirement in a few more years. At least it would keep him busy, and as a man who still had time to do some good with what he had, he had to try.

        At first it had taken him a few months to find the proper location he wanted his clinic to be, let alone the right building for it. Most were too small or too damaged from previous tropical storms that repairs alone would take him months.

        A few trips to each island finally provided him with what he was looking for, a building in not too shabby of shape, perhaps a little roof work and a few other small fixes, but it would do just fine.

        Wasting no time, Ratchet packed everything he had... and moved forwards.

His car rolled off the ferry, hitting the harsh gravel before pulling away towards the main road. The clinic had only been a few miles from the ferry's docking point, providing Ratchet with the chance to drive around town and familiarize himself with the landmarks.  

        The boxes in the back seat, stocked full of the last bits of medical supplies and personal items Ratchet had needed to store in the clinic bounced behind him. Having spent the last week transferring his home from the mainland to the island, he had completely forgotten to also look for a place to live. Back on the mainland he did have an apartment, but spent little to no time there due to his work schedule and had grown accustomed to sleeping in the hospital’s personal quarters for the staff. In fact staying home for a period longer than two days was alien.

        Regardless, the clinic was a fine place to sleep at night considering it was nearly fully repaired and the beds were plenty soft. He had plenty of time to search the island for housing, as of right now all he seemed to be focused on was getting the place up and running.

        Allowing his car to coast around a bend, Ratchet glanced out his open window towards the glittering ocean. Along the beach there were a few summer homes littered along the sands, a decent amount of people lounging about in front of them. Far off in the distance he could just make out the faint outline of the mainland and a ferry tooting along the water.

        It was beautiful to say the least, plus one thing Ratchet really loved about the island was how close everything was. Shops were within walking distance of homes and soon he was sure he would know everybody who inhabited the island. There was something about that thought that he liked.

        Pulling his car up to the curb of his clinic, Ratchet exited and removed the boxes from the back seat. Stacking them on the sidewalk and brushing his hands off when he was done, he put his hands on his hips and sighed with content up at the clinic’s sign. It lazily waved back and forth in the cool breeze, squeaking from time to time.  

        Outside of the main door stood a little wooden bench with an empty flower pot next to it. He would have to remember later to plant something to make it look a little more homey, though what he liked most of all was the little red and white mailbox just above the bench with a red cross on it. It was all so simple, yet he couldn't be happier.

        Picking up his boxes, Ratchet carried them one by one into the clinic, setting them down in each location he had to unpack them in. As soon as his order of medications arrived, he was set to open. Having ordered them a few days prior considering the pharmacies took a while to process the order and the ferry ride often slowed it down, they should arrive some point later that night. No matter, he was content with waiting; at least it would give him some time to explore the island and get to know the inhabitants.

        It had been a little past noon when Ratchet's stomach whined in hunger. He had forgotten to eat breakfast due to having to make the ferry schedule on time and had completely forgotten about lunch while he unpacked.

        If he had remembered correctly on his drive through town, there was a small food market just a block away from where he was. A sandwich and a few other groceries would do him some good, considering he seemed to have packed little to none on his way to the island as well. It had been sort of funny to him how much he had depended on the hospital while working there. He would be lying if he had said he hadn't gotten used to the cafeteria food and forgotten what real food might actually be like.

        Brushing off his hands and grabbing his wallet off his desk, Ratchet pulled it open to see how much cash he had on hand.

        He flipped through a few bills, was satisfied with the count and stuffed it in his back pocket before heading out the main door.

Two bags on one arm, Ratchet unwrapped a premade sandwich from the deli as he strolled down the street. Ham and cheese, nothing over the top, just something to keep his belly satisfied while he finished up work for the afternoon.

        Striding down a small incline Ratchet found himself pausing by a wooden railing blocking off a rocky cliff. There seemed to be a small break in the railing that presented a path to the top of the jagged rocks, no doubt made by people who like to sit on the rocks’ surface and watch the ocean. It did seem like a nice place to sit and enjoy the last bit of his lunch.

        Stepping past the break in the railing, Ratchet stepped out over onto the rocks, cautious about each step as the stones were a bit slippery. He stopped just before the rocks abruptly ended, leading down to about a ten foot fall to the sands below. Judging by how there were mass amount of seaweed and smaller rocks beneath him, Ratchet assumed this was a mostly uninhabited beach.

        Setting his bags down and sitting with his legs crossed, Ratchet pulled down the paper on his sandwich a little lower and took another bite.

        He had watched the gentle waves roll up and down the soft sands for about a half an hour, just about finishing his lunch in the process when he noticed something odd emerging from the waters.

        At first, it seemed like a person, which was strange since he didn't recall anybody ever going in while he had been sitting there. There was the offset chance he just hadn't noticed them but that seemed unlikely. It also seemed strange to think that maybe they had just swum there, but from... where?

        Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, Ratchet squinted, trying to get a better look at what was still moving closer to the beach.

        "What the... hell-" It was green, a swampy kind of green, at least from what he could tell. "Is that a-" He was able to confirm his suspicions when the creature dragged itself onto the sands, its tail coming into view, "A mer?" He watched it scoot along the sand, its muscular arms straining as it pulled itself along pretty quickly. It paused and Ratchet froze, fearful it might have spotted him. Instead it seemed to sniff at the air, shrug and return its attention to whatever task it had been up to.

        He shouldn't have been so surprised to see it, considering mers were supposedly common in tropical areas. Though he had never seen one himself, he did know a bit about them, more so how dangerous they could be if threatened. Mers were said to be terribly territorial animals that would attack anybody who dared to go too close to their nests. More than once he had tended to a patient in his ER that suffered an attack from a mer. From what he could tell they had claws as sharp as razors and teeth like needles. Not to mention they certainly had formidable upper body strength considering they had to drag their bodies along the land. He was aware there had been an aquarium on the mainland that had a few on display, but he had never gone himself to see them.

        Fascinated, Ratchet scooted himself closer to the rock’s edge, gawking at the creature. He was pleased it hadn't noticed him and instead kept sorting through the seaweed, eventually picking out what Ratchet could make out as a small crab. He heard it grunt in delight at the little treat, just watching it snap at him and flail to get free. It didn't have long to protest as the mer snapped it's limbs off and stuffed them into its mouth, crunching on them and savoring what little meat was inside.

        With strong hands, it broke the little crustacean apart and picked the meat out as well, tossing the empty shell aside only to scavenge for more. It was pretty good at it, considering it caught about three since he had spotted it.

        The mer kept moving up land, getting closer and closer to the rock’s face Ratchet had been sitting on until he was almost nearly under him.

        Leaning over the rock’s edge in an attempt to get a better look at what the mer was looking for, Ratchet spotted the wall’s surface coated with clams.

        He found it wonderful that he could hear it peep to itself, pleased with the find as it plucked a few clams free from the wall. It didn't seem to mind the others squirting water at him in a feeble attempt to defend themselves, instead, with hands nearly identical to a humans aside from the webbed fingers, it pried the clam in two.

        It pressed the shell to its lips, slurping the muscle out and licking its lips contently. As it tossed the shell aside, it pried another off the wall, still chewing on the one it had in its mouth while it cracked the current shell open. One after another, it got its fill of clams in a matter of minutes.

        At first it seemed to be eating every single clam it popped off the wall, but as Ratchet leaned over the edge a little more, he noticed the mer setting aside a few. Were they not to its liking? They didn't look too small; in fact they looked bigger than the ones it was eating. If he had to guess, it looked like it was... saving them for something.

        Leaning forwards just a little more, Ratchet felt his hand slip off the stone’s surface, and before he had a chance to try and catch himself, he fell forwards.

        "Shi-" Toppling down head first, Ratchet felt himself flip in the air and come to a harsh stop on his back. The sands below had done nothing to cushion the impact and for what felt like an eternity he laid there, dazed.     

        With a groan, Ratchet sat himself up, one hand on his head while he blinked his blurry eyes clear. He winced as his wrist stung, and when he pulled it close to his face to get a look at it, he spotted his blood stained sleeve.

        A large gouge, about two or three inches long had carved itself into Ratchet's hand and up along his arm. Blood oozed from the slash, streaming down his arm and dripping from his elbow while also staining his pure white cuff. He cursed allowed, slapping his other hand over the wound to put some sort of pressure on it to slow the bleeding.  

        Having completely forgotten about the mer he had been spying on in his panic, he stopped fidgeting with his arm when he heard a throaty growl.

        Less than three feet in front of him, the swampy mer had flattened itself against the sand, its gills flaring at its sides as it growled. It backed up slowly, eyes wide and fearful as Ratchet just sat there gawking at it.  

        "E-Easy now." It was probably foolish to try and reason with it, considering when he showed it his weaponless hands it snarled at him. "Easy now... just... easy-" He scooted back, having really nowhere to go as his back pressed up against the rock wall he had fallen from. With the fall leaving him cornered, all he could do was swallow hard and hope for the best.   

        Looking back towards the mer, Ratchet felt his heart suddenly flutter.

        It was... incredible... this creature. Its face was so human and yet so different. Its flat nostrils flared at him, no doubt trying to catch his scent without getting too close. Its eyes flicked back and forth between him and the pile of clams it had been collecting that Ratchet had now been sitting on. It seemed slightly torn, as it wanted to grab them, but it would have to get Ratchet out of the way to do so.

        "Sorry I-" Standing on wobbling legs, Ratchet froze when the mer backed up and snarled at him. Its fins suddenly flapped against its body, its needle pointed teeth presenting themselves now. It settled when Ratchet froze, his injured hand tucked under his armpit now in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

        The mer settled, its eyes wandering to the blood stains on Ratchet’s once clean white button up. Its growls subsided into low murmurs, and for a second Ratchet could have sworn he saw remorse on the creature's face. Was it even possible an animal could feel guilty? He was snapped back to attention when the mer flattened its fins suddenly and hissed.

        Holding out his uninjured hand, Ratchet panicked. There was nowhere for him to go. The rock wall was too steep for him to climb and he was cornered by the mer. He could probably outrun it... but that required him to get around it. Even then he figured he could get shredded to pieces by its claws, which it was digging into the sand anxiously as it watched him.

        "Easy... easy... I'm not going," Slowly, Ratchet pushed the clams he had been sitting on with his foot towards the mer, "to hurt you."  He kept kicking the shells over watching the mer’s body language closely in case it decided it didn't like that either.

        Lurching forwards before Ratchet had finished, the mer snagged as many clams into its hands as possible before darting back in the direction of the ocean. It wasn't exactly graceful but it wasn't snarling at him anymore and that was all that really mattered.

        He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath until he felt dizzy, and with a harsh exhale he leaned back against the rock wall. Sliding down until he was once again sitting on the damp sand, he sighed. Thank god.

        Across the rocky beach, he watched the chubby mer scoot itself into the water. He had expected it to just keep going and be done with the encounter but it paused about waist deep.

        Arms full of clams, the mer half turned, looking over its shoulder to where Ratchet was still sitting. Its fins flapped and for a moment Ratchet was certain it really did seem upset about everything that had just happened.

        Turning back to the open water, the mer tilted its head up and let out a loud bark. It did it a second time then sank below the surface of the water, leaving Ratchet all alone.

The last ferry of the night was due to arrive soon, and with it the medicines Ratchet had ordered. If he could get them and put them away, he could open as soon as the next morning.

        After arriving back from lunch, the first thing Ratchet had done was tend to his wound. Firstly he turned on the sink and let held his wrists under the cool stream, sucking in air through his teeth as it stung. He was relieved to see it hadn't been as bad as he had thought, considering the slice was a pretty clean one that was relatively shallow. None the less, it still bled like hell.

        Rinsing any leftover sand from the wound, Ratchet moved over to one of the cabinets lining the room. At first he grabbed a bottle of peroxide, a few cotton balls, then some gauze, and finally a bandage. After setting it all down on a little cart, Ratchet sat himself upon a stool and got right to work.

        Cleaning the area around the wound, and then spreading some gauze across the gash, Ratchet finished up by wrapping his hand and wrist. Nice and tight, he flipped his hand over to make sure everything was in order before putting all his supplies away.

        "What a day." The first day, not even the first day, the prequel to what was to come. Hopefully every day wouldn't be as thrilling, if so he might age ten times faster than he already was.

        With a small chuckle, Ratchet ran his hand through his silky hair, scratching at the back of his head before letting his shoulders sag.

        "What a day..."

The last ferry of the night had been scheduled to arrive just after sundown and on it Ratchet had been expecting his delivery of medications.

        It had been tempting at first to walk to the docks considering the heat had died down the moment the sun sank past the horizon. If it hadn't been a three miles trek and if he hadn't been expecting more than one box then perhaps he would have done so.

        Instead, Ratchet let his car coast along the nearly empty roads, enjoying the dimly lit street lamps every few hundred feet and the small cottage like houses with a single light on inside.

        Coasting down a small incline, Ratchet could already see the dock and several workers unloading the cargo. By the time he pulled into the lot and stepped out, he could already see his shipment waiting for him.  Beside it stood a boy, more so a teen who had a clipboard tucked under his arm. He seemed to be counting the boxes, nodding them himself when all of the stock seemed to have arrived and checking off a little box on his clipboard.

        "Are these for me?" He had tried not to startle the boy when he walked up, but the boy jumped regardless and whirled around to face him.

        "Ah? One second-" Flipping a few pages on his board, the boy scanned the lines, "Mr. Ratchet? Four boxes of medical supplies?"

        "That's me." Pulling out his wallet and showing the boy his I.D. and medical license, he signed off on the board and picked up one box. He had been pleased when the boy also picked up a box and followed him to his car. "Thanks." Setting the box in the trunk, they loaded the rest together and Ratchet handed the boy a ten dollar bill for his effort.

        "Thanks!" The boy's excitement for the tip made Ratchet wonder if tipping wasn't really a thing they did around here. Regardless, it was late, the boy had helped, and he was ready to head back home.

        Slamming the trunk closed, Ratchet sighed in content.  It would be nice to finally lie down and push the day to a close. Even if he was forced to sleep on a medical bed for a few nights while he looked for housing, it was a bed none the less.

        Getting back into his car and sliding the key in, Ratchet pulled out from the lot and let his car accelerate in the direction of home.

        By this time of night, he had been the only one on the road and the houses he had passed that a single light lit had faded to black. Nothing but the soft sound of crickets and the rolling waves against the soft sands could be heard as he coasted around a bend.

        Breaking for a stop sign, Ratchet let his car idle a minute, looking to his right and left despite most of the island dwellers were long asleep.

        Right as he was about to step on the gas, a strange noise caught his attention. When he looked out his side window and listened, all he heard were the soft noises of the night.

        Then it came again, a high pitched cry, a scream even.

        Pulling his car off to the side of the road and killing the engine, Ratchet stuck his head out his window and listened.

        Again, it was quiet, but after a few minutes he could hear the cry again, softer this time, but it was there.

        "What the hell?" Pulling his keys from the ignition and stepping out of his car, Ratchet jogged up the sidewalk a bit, pausing by a wooden railing that blocked off an incline leading to a beach like area below.

        It was too dark to really see anything, and even the lighthouse far off in the distance did little to illuminate what was down on the sand when the beacon came whirling around.

        "Hello?" Ratchet called out across the darkness. He waited for someone to call back to him, but instead after a few seconds of waiting all he heard was that strange cry again. It sounded strange, almost strangled, what if someone was hurt and they couldn't cry for help properly. "Is anybody there?" There was no response this time, and Ratchet rushed back to his car and dug around in the glove compartment for a flashlight.

        Slapping it against his hand, the light flickered to life, fading out a second then flaring back to life when Ratchet smacked it against his palm again.

        "Is anybody there?" He called again, climbing over the wooden railing and carefully making his way down the sandy incline. "Hello?" Hitting the sand, Ratchet's feet sank with each step. "Is anybody there? Are you hurt? I'm a doctor." His flashed his light from left to right, still hearing the noise but not seeing anything. "If you can hear me just-" Pausing as the flashlight's beam illuminated something that moved, Ratchet moved the flashlight up.

        It was... it was that mer. That one he had seen earlier in the day, the one he was sure was going to tear him apart but took off instead. Now it was lying before him, struggling with what seemed to be netting wrapped and tangled around its body.

        The netting was caught around nearly every one of its fins, even slicing into the more delicate folds of skin the more it struggled. It must have been like that for a while considering a decent amount of blood not only coated the mer, but had already pooled around the spot it was stuck.

        Its tail flapped to the ground one last time before lying limp, the mer it was connected to panting hard into the blood stained sand. It was exhausted, and already looked like it was fading fast. After a few moments of panting, it started to struggle again.

        "Stop!" Ratchet dropped his flashlight, rushing forwards only to drop down on his knees at the mer's side. He wasn't sure what had compelled him at first, but he would be damned if he was to just walk away. "You're making it worse!" He wasn't sure what wound to put his hand over first, the netting had already sliced open too many areas. Instead, Ratchet grabbed at part of the netting, pulling on it and trying his best to untangle it from the mer’s back fins.

        Jerking, the mer squealed, whipping its tail at Ratchet and missing at the netting caught it and forced it to flex back.

        "Stop it! I'm trying to help you!"

        The mer stilled, its tail flopping to the ground while it breathed hard through flaring nostrils. Could it... understand him?

        "Just... calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. I can't get this off if you keep struggling, so just stop moving, okay?" He wasn't expecting it, but the mer nodded at him, leaving him sort of slack jawed.

        Shaking his head, Ratchet returned his attention to the netting, pulling on it and uncoiling at much as he could until he reached a knot he just couldn't manage. It was slippery due to all the blood and so far tangled he had no hope of getting it off without cutting it.

        "Don't move. I'll be right back. Don't move." Getting to his feet, Ratchet rushed back across the narrow beach and up the incline to his car. Nearly tearing the trunk door off its hinges, he tore open each and every box.

        Yanking out several wrapped items, Ratchet gathered everything in his arms and slammed the trunk closed.

        Rushing back down the incline, Ratchet nearly tripped and fell on his face, but managed to make it back to the mer in one piece.

        As he drew near, a different kind of movement caught his eye. In fact more than one thing caught his eye. They were much smaller than the large mer, and much faster as they zipped away when they spotted him, taking cover by some rocks close to the bigger mer.

        Pointing his flashlight towards the rocks, Ratchet blinked in surprise. Five - no six little heads peeped up at him from behind some stones. All an assortment of colors... they were... mer pups.

        As Ratchet stepped closer to the larger mer, a pup jumped from behind the rock the others had sheltered themselves behind and blocked his path.

        It was red with beautiful golden fins lining its body. It snarled at Ratchet, its little fins flapping upwards at him and its little face wrinkling to try and make it look scary.

        "Roddy." The swampy green mer behind the pup spoke up, making Ratchet jump as he had really reached his peak in being surprised for the night. The green mer reached out as far as it could with its tangled arm and stroked the pup's tail, calming it. "Okay... okay... okay." The green mer cooed its voice graining and tired.

        The red pup turned away from Ratchet, scooting close to the large mer and rubbing its little face against its big green one. Its little hands came up, touching the mer's face as it peeped sadly. It licked the mer’s flat nose, then scooted sadly back with the others behind the rocks.

        "Okay... okay, let's get this net off first." Dropping all his supplies on the ground, Ratchet snagged a scalpel from the pile first.

        Tearing it open out of its sterile packaging, Ratchet put his flashlight in his mouth and got to cutting. Slowly, he started with the mer's tail, working his way up and tossing the cut pieces to his sides. He paused when the mer whined, shifting uncomfortably when he tried to cut the net away from its fins.  

        "I know it hurts," Ratchet pulled, slicing the netting away and only getting more blood oozing from the wounds in return. "Just hold on." More and more he pulled away, struggling to get the netting away from its gills around its sides. When he pulled, the mer would squeal, fighting with itself not to move or flinch as the doctor worked.

        Behind him, he could hear the pups peeping, even growling each time the larger mer howled.

        Getting down to the last bits, Ratchet tossed it all to the side and sat back on his heels. He half expected the mer to get up and take off like it had earlier in the day; but instead, it just lay there, panting.

        Its eyes were heavy, and it didn't even try to get up once Ratchet had freed it. Instead, it seemed to fade.

        Panicked, the pups rushed out from their hiding spot, rushing to the large mer’s side to cuddle him. Each and every one rubbed against him, patting his skin with their little hands in an attempt to rouse him, but instead he just grunted. He dug his nails into the sand, his large body shifting as he tried and failed to sit up, just falling still against the sand once more.

        Backing up and sitting on its little tail, the red and gold mer looked from the green mer, up to Ratchet, then back down at the mer.

        Little lower lip quivering, its eyes flooded with tears, which spilled over its cheeks in a matter of seconds. It peeped at the larger mer again, touching it with his little hand, and then sitting back on its tail to continue crying.

        "No no no-" They can talk and now he knew they could cry. How was he supposed to deal with all of this? He couldn't handle normal kids how was he supposed to handle crying fish kids?

        Picking up the pup, Ratchet held it under its little armpits, its little tail hanging down limply. It sniffled and kept crying, even more tears than before rolling down its cheeks as it broke into a full on sob.

        "Shh! Shh!" He wasn’t sure what to do other than pull it against his chest and try to coddle it.  That's how you made normal human babies stop crying, right?

        The pup against him hiccupped, its tail curling against his chest as it sobbed against him. In a matter of seconds his shoulder was soaking wet and he was in a panic.

        Looking around for anything that might help better the situation, Ratchet cursed.

        "Shit." The mer would most certainly die if it stayed here, and there was no way Ratchet was going to be able to drag it up that incline and into his car. Could this thing and six pups even fit into his car?

        Off in the distance, there seemed to be a beach house, secluded from all the rest on the mainland. There were no lights on and judging from how far off it was from all the rest of the beach houses, he could have bet it was a fishing shack at one point.

        Setting the upset pup down with the others and getting up, he jogged across the rocky beach, rushing up the three creaky steps to the beach house and putting his hands and face up against the window to see if anybody was home.

        Inside was too dark for him to really make anything out. He found it sort of off he couldn’t really even see the outline of any furniture but he hadn’t thought about it too much.

        He grabbed for the knob, feeling it catch and wiggle as it was securely locked. Taking a step back and looking for anything a key might be hidden under, Ratchet growled and just moved himself back towards the door. Holding up his elbow, he aimed carefully and sent it through the glass window panel, shattering it with relative ease.

Pulling his elbow back, he rubbed it and checked to make sure he hadn’t cut himself before reaching in and flicking the lock on the door.

        Entering the house, Ratchet stood in the dark entry way, expecting by now to have an angry tenant screaming at him for entering, but nobody came. Instead, he moved through the house fluidly, pausing in a large living room that should have been filled with lots of furniture, but instead it was bare. Judging from the holes on the roof that allowed moonlight to spill through and the busted flooring, the house had been long abandoned. Good. It would be a perfect place to bring that mer for the night, at least it would provide him with some sort of privacy while he tended to it. Plus who knew what else might crawl up on the beach while he tried to work on it.

After rummaging around a few closets, Ratchet managed to find a few tattered blankets and set them down in an opening in the living area. Once they were all set, he rushed back outside and towards the mer.

        Still lying on its belly, the mer grunted when it felt Ratchet slip his hands under its armpits. Hauling him up and dragging him backwards, the mer looked up at the doctor with questioning eyes.

        "Come on puppies! Come on!" He was worried at first the pups wouldn’t follow, but as he dragged the larger mer across the beach they made chase almost instantly. "Come on!" Ratchet heaved, the mer weighing a ton; it took him at least twenty minutes to haul it just the short distance to the beach house and up the steps.

        The pups hopped up each stair, following Ratchet into the house and around the larger mer when he set him down in the center of the room.

        Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his injured but still wrapped hand, Ratchet watched the pups circle the big mer. They peeped and pushed the mer with their faces, nuzzling themselves against him and trying to get his attention.

        While the pups kept the larger mer’s dwindling attention, Ratchet rushed back out of the house to retrieve the rest of the supplies he had left scattered on the beach.

        Upon returning to the house, he closed the, locking it despite the window pane being smashed, and caught his breath.

        "Okay-" Sitting down by the larger mer’s side, Ratchet moved a few of the pups out of the way and tore open a few other bags. "You're going to be alright." Pulling a little vile out of a thin box, Ratchet shook it and then removed a syringe from another sterile bag. "You're safe." The mer before him made no noise, instead it just watched him fill the syringe then hesitate.

        Shoulder or... tail... or...

        He had never doctored a sea creature before, but was it so different. It did have an almost human top and from what he could tell they could talk to an extent and cry.

        Cleaning a little spot on its tail, Ratchet stuck it quickly and injected the antibiotics. He shushed the creature when it whined, and almost immediately it settled again.

        "I know... I know." Ratchet cooed, setting the syringe down and picking up a tube of gauze. One by one he worked on each wound, disinfecting it and placing gauze on each before a small bandage. No doubt they would fall off in the water, but as of right now this mer wasn't going in the water.

        Dizzy from blood loss and the medication, the mer watched Ratchet work through glossed eyes. Its flat nose flared open and closed as it breathed, and when it licked its lips, it spoke.

        "Sorry." Ratchet paused his bandaging. "Sorry." It repeated, blinking its tired eyes.

        "Sorry?" Watching the mer reach up and touch his bandaged hand, Ratchet's expression softened.

        "Sorry."

        "It’s nothing… don’t worry about it." Wrapping one fin, Ratchet moved to the next. "You can... understand me?" He looked down, watching the mer nod, its eyes barely open.

        "Kup." It touched its own chest. "Kup." Was that its name?

        "You're safe, Kup. Just rest." As Ratchet spoke, the mer's eyes closed. "Almost done." Finishing up, Ratchet let his hand come to rest on the massive creature's side. He let it sit there, just feeling it breathe.

        The skin was warm against his palm, and a lot softer than he had first thought it would be.

        Peep.

        Looking down, the red and gold mer was tugging at the bottom of his un-tucked shirt. Tears still streaming down its face, it pointed at Kup. It along with all the others moved close to him, cuddling in his lap while also rubbing on Kup in an attempt to get his attention.

        "He's okay. He just needs rest." Hesitantly, Ratchet set his hand down on a red and white mer's back, stroking it and rubbing its little fins. It peeped, looking up at him curiously. When all Ratchet could do was stare, the pup sat up, rubbing its head under his chin and licking at his skin. It peeped again, slid down his chest and curled up in his lap. Slowly, its little eyes fluttered closed and it was fast asleep like all the others around him.

One by one, Ratchet rubbed each pups back, pausing to look at Kup, who was fast asleep now. His back rose and fell with each harsh breath he took in, his damaged gills expanding on each exhale. There was something mesmerizing about watching him.

Reaching over and gently touching Kup’s shoulder, Ratchet rubbed back and forth in a soothing manner before leaning himself back against a wall. He was tired, and the night wasn’t even close to over.

        Guess he was going to be stuck like this for a while.

Chapter Text

His aching back had been the first thing to try and rouse him from his uncomfortable slumber, then a strange wet sensation against his cheek had him creaking one eye open.

        The world around him remained a blur, sculpting into place after he blinked a few times and realized he had been lying on his side. At some point during the night he must have either tipped over or actually laid down himself, but regardless, his back had not been fond of the decision.

        His sleepy eye wandered up and around the room, confused as to where he was and why. Had it even been morning? It was still so dark in the room except for the single hole in the ceiling that let, what he had hoped, was daylight shine through.

        Peep~

        Again, something warm and wet lapped at the bottom of his chin, drawing his attention away from where he was and rather to what was next to him. As his single open eye came down and locked onto a little red and gold face, both of his eyes snapped open.

        Peep!

        Startled, Ratchet jerked upright, hitting his head against the back wall along the way and cursing at himself for doing it.

        "For God's sake!" He snapped, rubbing at the back of his head while his free hand brushed long locks of his own messy hair from his face.  "What the-" Below, now curled up in his lap and fiddling with the top few buttons of his shirt, Rodimus peeped softly.

        Several times he leaned in close to Ratchet's chest, sniffing at the wrinkled fabric and biting a button. He could only tug on it for a second before Ratchet reached down and gently pushed him aside.

        "Stop that." Curling the little pup into a ball and placing him back in his lap, Ratchet huffed. What a troublesome little thing, though there had been more of them than just Rodimus, right? He could have sworn-

        There, to Ratchet's right, laid the massive green mer he had rescued the night before. Its cheek was pressed into the cool wooden floor panels, wheezing softly as it breathed. Under one arm, three other pups had wedged themselves and were sleeping peacefully under it. Two had remained slightly lower, pressed up against the larger mer's belly.

        Rubbing the sides of his face as the prior night’s events started to come back to him, he looked back down into his lap at the pup the green one had called Rodimus.

        Having sat itself back up, Rodimus hadn't returned his attention to Ratchet's buttons but instead towards his face. Seeming intrigued by the beard, he placed his little webbed palms against Ratchet's warm cheeks and rubbed.

        "Why are you doing this?" He got a peep in response but no solid answer as Rodimus kept rubbing his little hands all over Ratchet's beard. It must have been prickly; he hadn't trimmed it in a few days, leaving him looking rather scruffy. Like the old man he knew he was.

        Reaching up and gently removing one of Rodimus' little hands from his face, Ratchet looked down at it. Running his thumb through the little palm, he rubbed each and every one of Rodimus' little webbed fingers.

        It was surreal, how close they looked to human hands, if anything they were human. Aside from the claws and the webbed fingers, they were perfect, not to mention soft but perhaps that in itself was attributed to Rodimus being a pup. Kup probably had rougher more coarse hands.

        Gggrrr

        Rodimus whined, curling his little fingers over Ratchet's thumb as his little belly growled a second time. His fins sagged and he pulled his other hand away from Ratchet's beard, patting at his belly, which was flat and not as plump as it had been the night before.

        "Shit." He hadn't thought of it at first but without Kup, the pups would go hungry. With him still passed out on the floor and in rough shape, Ratchet wasn't even sure if they were old enough to hunt on their own.

        Now that he was alert and focused, he heard several other of the pup's bellies growl. Every few minutes one would make a noise, whine, and shift in place next to Kup, no doubt wishing he would get up and get them something.

        "Alright," Slowly, with joints popping and creaking, Ratchet rose to his feet. Making sure to set Rodimus down close to Kup, he brushed himself off and stretched. Almost immediately his back popped and hissed in pain, now really regretting sleeping on the floor, "I'll see what I can do." Hopefully the fish market had already been open and he could stop by for a few things, if not perhaps investing in a fishing pole wouldn't be such a bad idea.

        Turning towards Kup and kneeling down on his haunches, Ratchet reached out and placed his cool palm against Kup's forehead. Warm, a lot warmer that it should have been. Perhaps another round of antibiotics would help, but he wasn't a vet and this was a little out of his league. Though they were oddly human, he had some hope.

        "Just rest," Removing his hand from Kup's forehead, Ratchet stood, "I'll be back soon." Almost a whisper, Ratchet turned towards the door and made his way to it. Upon grabbing the knob, something caught his pant leg and tugged one of his legs back slightly.

        Peep peep~!

        Scooting back in place, Rodimus did his best to try and tug Ratchet away from the door. Despite failing miserably and not moving the doc an inch, Ratchet turned and knelt down.

        "I have to go," Placing his hands at either side of Rodimus' little cheeks, Ratchet squished them together, "I'm going to get you something to eat and some more medicine for your... uh..." He looked at Kup then back at Rodimus, who strangely had a completely different color scheme. In fact, now that Ratchet awake and aware, all of the pups, even the green one had almost zero traits in common with Kup. Perhaps they were like kittens? Adopting multiple color patterns based on partners?

        Thick glob like tears started to well under Rodimus’ deep blue eyes, falling down his cheeks faster than Ratchet could register them.

        "No, no, not this again. No crying. No crying." Brushing each tear away with his thumbs, Ratchet sighed, allowing the pup to sniffle into his palms. "I promise I will come back." Rodimus' flat little nose flared as he sniffled "I'll come back, and I'll make Kup all better, okay?" Did it understand? Kup did, but could this one?

        Fins sagging, Rodimus pulled back from Ratchet and sat, curling its elegant tail around its little body. As if to wait patiently for his return, it just waited.

        "Good... boy? Good pup." That went better than last night.

        Standing back up and grabbing the knob to the front door, Ratchet flipped the latch that locked it and stepped outside. Closing the door behind him and leaving it unlocked, Ratchet stepped down the few broken front steps and stood on the warm sands.

        The sun had already managed to get to a decent height in the sky, making Ratchet guess it had to be at least nine or ten in the morning. Having been more impressed with himself for being able to sleep in that late on a damp wooden floor next to a bunch of mers, he started his trek back to his car.

        In the daytime his car had seemed a lot closer now, perhaps in the panic of the night everything had seemed so far out of reach but the walk back was soothing. The cool breeze rolling through his messy hair felt wonderful, and the sweet scent of the early morning waves rolling in had his heart pounding.

        His body ached and he looked like a castaway trudging up the beach, but he felt good. It had been strange, a little too strange as he hiked up the small incline and fiddled his keys out of his pocket. No matter, as long as it was a good strange he didn't mind it swirling around his chest.

        Sliding the key into his car door and hoping inside, Ratchet slammed the door shut and looked back down at the beach to where the house was so perfectly hidden.  Despite only being around a corner, even the roof had not showed over the cliff side, rendering it quite the quiet place.

        Putting his attention on the ignition, Ratchet turned the key and sped off towards the market.

It hadn't been until about three in the afternoon that Ratchet had finally returned. Having found a parking spot even closer to the location of the hidden house, he had been pleased to find a rickety set of stairs leading down to the beach. Though they had been in as bad of shape as the house, it did still make his trek to and from his car considerably easier.

        Despite having to kick down some tall grass that had prevented him from seeing the path in the first place, Ratchet dropped his first two boxes down in the sand and returned to his car for the rest. Having retrieved only three more, he took his pick of two and carried them towards the house.

        Dropping them both on the front porch, he stuck his hand into his pocket and fished around for his keys. Once in his hand, he spread them out in his palm, getting a good look at third key now on the ring.

        While out and about on his tasks for the day, Ratchet had decided to stop by the town hall. Wanting to inquire about the old house on the beach and if it might be for sale, he had been surprised when they handed him the keys on the spot. He had expected a lot more paperwork and a lot more money being tossed around, but a small fee and the keys were his. Perhaps it had something to do with the houses deplorable state, or maybe it was just unwanted due to increased mer activity through the years, regardless, he accepted it.

        Fixing up the house and getting it into perfect condition would take time, but all he had was time now.

        Realizing he hadn't locked the door in the first place, Ratchet stuffed his keys back into his pocket and opened the door. Bending down to pick his boxes back up, he used his foot to push the door open.

        "Puppies?" It was still so dark in the house, he had to remember to pull the boards off the windows later if he was to get started rebuilding the place. "Puppies?" Setting the boxes down by the side of the door and closing it, Ratchet reached and hand out and felt up the side of the wall.

        The lovely woman in the town hall had said the electricity would be on by the time he had gotten back and the water system would be running again.

        Fingers grazing over a switch, Ratchet flipped it and bulb on the ceiling came to life. Just as fast as it had lit, it popped and the room went dark.

        "Excellent." At least bulbs were easily replaced.

        Peep~! Peep~!

        Within two steps into the house, Ratchet felt little hands grabbing at his pants. Despite it being dark, enough light had gotten into the house that he could see Rodimus and two other pups hoarding around his legs.

        The chubby green and the almost all white mer were by Rodimus' side, peeping up at him and whining. No doubt they were starving by now. He had been gone a little longer than he wanted to but for a good reason.

        "Alright, alright, I know, I know, you're all so hungry."

        Peeeeep~!

        They slapped their tails against the floor, letting Ratchet know they were indeed getting inpatient.

        "Okay, okay." Bending down to pet each of their heads, Ratchet picked up one of the two boxes he had brought into the house and moved with it into the kitchen. Following behind him as quickly as possible, the pups bouncing, peeping each time their little bellies hit the floor.

        Flipping the light switch and expecting the bulb to pup in the kitchen as well, Ratchet hummed in delight when the bulb stayed lit.

        Setting the box down on the dusty counter top, Ratchet turned and made his way back into the front entry away. Along his journey, he tugged at the loose board's barricading the windows, finally letting the warm afternoon light spill into the house.

        Immediately the place became a little livelier, and the pups still burrowed under Kup's arm finally peeped their heads out to get a look at what was happening. They tucked themselves back under Kup's arm when Ratchet tossed the boards down, creating a racket and scaring them.

        "There we go," Brushing off his hands and his dirty shirt, Ratchet turned around and put his hands on his hips. With the room now fully lit with the afternoon's light, he could see Kup a lot more clearly.

        Still laying on his side, at some point while Ratchet had been away, Kup shifted in his sleep. Rather than lying flat and straight like he had been, he had seemed to curl up in a tight circled. Only when Ratchet saw the other pups still hiding by him did he understand that maybe Kup had tried to curl around them protectively, even in his exhausted state.

        "Alright big guy, let's see what else I can do for you." Kneeling down by the box he had left by the front door, Ratchet rifled through it until he found a new vial of antibiotics and a wrapped syringe. Setting them by his feet, he kept digging for new bandages and disinfectant.

        Once all in hand, Ratchet scooted himself back over to Kup's side and set the supplies down.

        "Kup?" Despite now knowing mers could talk, he still wasn't sure if he had been ready for an answer. "Kup?" The bigger mer’s lips parted for a moment, but no sound came out. Instead, his fins flapped meekly, and his body relaxed. At least he was trying. "Alright." It was good enough, at least he was responding in some way.

        Carefully pulling the tape away from the bandages from the night before, Ratchet removed them from the wounds. Despite the gauze pads being bloodied and soiled, Kup's wounds had already started to heal nicely. Several of the slice marks along his tail had stopped bleeding and had already scabbed over. The deeper ones along his gills still needed work but regardless they were making nice enough progress to impress Ratchet.

        Every few gauze pads, Kup's tail would shift and his face would scrunch in pain. Doing his best to comfort him, Ratchet cooed to him, not really the best at it, but he tried.

        "Shh, it's alright. I know it hurts, just a few more." Removing all the bandages, cleaning all the wounds, and resetting new gauze pads, Kup was patched up once more. Gauging from the rapid regeneration, Ratchet assumed it would take him a little under a week to heal completely, maybe longer if his age had any effect.

        With nothing left but to administer the antibiotics, Ratchet tore the syringe out of its bag and shook the vial of medication. Deciding to stick Kup with a higher dose to bring his fever down, Ratchet advanced on the mer's shoulder.

        "Shh-" Swiping at the surprisingly chiseled muscle, Ratchet tried to be as quick as possible. Sticking Kup, injecting, and feeling his tail slap against the floor in protest to the prick, it was over.

        Placing his hand on the top of Kup's head, Ratchet rubbed back and forth as soothingly as possible. Pausing to rub at the fins that stuck out of the sides of his head, he smiled when Kup let out a content sigh.

        Sliding his hand from Kup's cheek down to his neck, Ratchet continued to rub. Absolutely fascinated, he pressed his fingers into what must have been Kup's collarbone. Following it down to his chest, the doc found himself ghosting the tips of his fingers over thick pectoral muscles and finally Kup's soft underbelly. Warm and smooth, it had been just like the pups, leaving the skin on his back to be the roughest part of his body.

        Peep! peep!

        Startled, Ratchet pulled his hand back and turned, seeing Rodimus and the other pups now gathered behind him in a little clump. Each of them whined, rubbing their little bellies at Ratchet, peeping even louder at him so he would get up and feed them.

        "Alright, I'm coming." Giving the fin on the side of Kup's head one more rub for good measure, Ratchet stood himself up. Stepping over the pups, he moved back into the kitchen, his little hoard of fish children following closely.

He had expected the water to come out of the faucet brown, but not for ten straight minutes. For a moment he had thought the water tank had been damaged, but after a little more patience, clean water began to flow.

        Rifling around in the box he had set on the counter earlier, Ratchet removed three large fish wrapped in wax paper. Setting them down on the countertop he had made sure to clean from corner to corner, he reached back into the box.

        Removing a cutting board, knives, bowls, and a few other kitchen items, Ratchet set them all down on the counter. At a later point he would stock his cabinets with all he needed, but as of right now a few bowls for him and the pups would do. Besides, did they even care if they ate out of dishes? He was pretty sure if he had dropped the fish on the floor they would tear it apart and enjoy it just as much.

        Upon unwrapping the first fish, the hoard of little pups were already tugging at the bottom of his pants. They slapped at one another, hissing and even biting each other's fin as they tried to get the first bite.

        "Hey, hey! Don't climb me, and be nice." Shaking his leg, the pups settled back down on the floor and continued to whine. Like a bunch of little baby birds, they opened their mouths up at him, expecting him to feed them.

        Carefully, and as quickly as he could, Ratchet sliced up the first big cod he had. Dicing it into small chunks, he took one and held it down to the pups.

        Immediately, little hands shot up to grab it, and the white mer with red patterns managed to snag it first. Stuff it into its mouth before the others could snatch it back, they whined even harder.

        "It's coming, hold on." He dropped another one onto the floor and watched the pups scramble for it. "You have to wait. Wait." Again, he was surprised to see the pups suddenly still and sit, looking up at him patiently.

        The first to grow impatient was the crab like mer, pinching its massive claws up at Ratchet and chittering impatiently at him.

        "Alright, alright, here-" Scraping the chunks onto a plate and spreading them out, Ratchet knelt down and set them in the middle of the floor.

        Instantly the pups were all over it, grabbing at the chunks with their little hands and stuffing them into their mouth.

        Frantic peeps were quickly replaced by purrs of delight and the loud open mouth chewing the pups made. It really wasn't surprising that they had no table manners.

        "Everybody good?" He smiled, loving how the pups grabbed the chunks with their little hands. There was something oddly cute about it. "Good, now it's my turn." With his own stomach growling, Ratchet turned back to the stove.

        Setting down a pan on the stone and turning the fire burner on, Ratchet removed a second cod from the wax paper. Starting to slice it up in long strips, he tossed them each down in the pan.

        Popping and sizzling, the cod strips cooked, leaving Ratchet to sprinkle some salt and pepper over them.

Nose flaring, Kup licked his lips as a lovely smell wafted throughout the run down house. Certainly it was a fishy smell, and he had had them all in his lifetime, but never had he smelt one that good.

        Feeling a little colder than usual, Kup looked down at his body, realizing no pups had been snuggled against him. Odd.

        Peep! Peep! Peep!

        "I said stop climbing me! This one is mine!"  The fins at the sides of Kup's head perked up, and he listened further. "You have your own!" Sitting himself up, he looked around the living room, tilting his head up and sniffing the wonderful air.

        Peep!

        Scooting himself towards the kitchen door, Kup paused by the threshold, watching the scene before him.

        All of his pups had gathered around the good doctor's legs, wagging their little tails each time Ratchet talked to them. They rubbed against him, purring even louder as he placed a few more fish chunks on their plate then turned back to his pan.

        The pan sizzled as Ratchet flipped the cod slices, the source of that incredible smell.

        Letting out a low murmur, Kup scooted himself a little further into the kitchen. Now snagging the pup’s attention, they stood up straight and raced towards him. In a flurry of peeps, they smashed into his lower belly, rubbing all over him and licking at him until he picked each one up and cuddled it.

        "Kup, it's good to see you up and awake." Despite the mer looking a bit ragged and dead tired, Kup smiled at the doc. "How are you feeling?" He could see Kup's smile fade and his face sort of scrunch as he pondered the question. The fins on the side of his head flexed outward as his head tilted, wanting to hear Ratchet say it again. "Good? Bad?"

        "Bad good." Kup responded as the red pup nuzzled under his chin. "Good bad."

        "I... no... nevermind." He was upright and talking, that's all that mattered. "Are you hungry?" That time Kup seemed to understand. Immediately he perked up, his tail wagging at the prospect of filling his empty belly.

        "Mhm~" Gently scooting the pups aside, Kup dragged himself along the cool linoleum floor until he was by Ratchet's side.

        Nose working a mile a minute, he sniffed at the sizzling pan, leaning back when he felt the sudden burst of heat.

        "Careful, it's hot." Turning the flame off and pulling the cod slices from the pan, Ratchet set them on a large plate and blew on them to cool them off. "Just give it a second, they are very hot."

        "Fish... not hot-" Squinting at Ratchet as if he was a fool, Kup tried to get a better look at what the doc was cooking.

        "It's cod, I cooked it. You would never have it cooked out in the wild, but we cook it. Make it warm, season it," cutting a slice off a strip, Ratchet knelt down and held it out before the mer.

        "Cook?" His nose flared, and his attention zoned right in on the sweet smelling piece of fish. "Cooked."  Swallowing hard, Kup reached out for the slice and took it.

        Warm and wet between his webbed fingers, he stuffed it in his mouth.

        Eyes lighting up with the first bite, his tail flailed back and forth in excitement. What a delicious piece of fish, how had he gone so long without it? How could he spend his life digging for clams when this long hairs land dweller could magically make fish warm and tasty?

        "Do you want more?" Ratchet chuckled as Kup nodded frantically. He scooted closer to the doc, tapping his claws against the floor as he waited. When Ratchet finally brought the plate down and showed Kup the few cooked slices he could have, he dug right in.

Dropping off the last of the boxes into the front entryway of the house, Ratchet rubbed at his back and wrists. All in all it had been productive. He had finally gotten a house to live in, despite it being a disaster, and already had some freeloading neighbors.

        Having returned to the living room with plump puppies, Kup had curled around them all. One by one he licked them from tail to head, grooming them to sleep and finally grooming himself.

        He paused his cleaning when Ratchet unrolled something along the floor and sat on it.

        "Won't have an actual bed for a few days, but this sleeping bag will have to do." There had been the old couch in the house, but it had suspicious imprints on it that Ratchet wasn't exactly ready to lay on.

        As long as he had something a little softer than the floor itself, he could make due.

        "Thank you." Kup piped up after awhile.

        "You're welcome." Never had he dreamed he would be saying that to a mer, but it felt good. "Do the others have names?" Pointing at the rest of the pups that were tucked against Kup's tail, kneading gently, Ratchet watched the swampy mer smile.

        "Percy," His hand went over the red one, "Drift," The white one with red patterns, "Blurr," The all blue one who resembled a shark, "Springer," The all green mer who could actually be Kup's pup, and finally, "Whirl." The darker blue crustacean looking mer.

        "And Rodimus." Ratchet whispered as he reached out and pet Rodimus' back, running the silky smooth golden fins between his fingers.

        "My pups." Kup purred and nuzzled the lot of them. "My pups."

Chapter Text

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet as his body roused him from slumber. Instead he shifted and took a deep breath, finding it a bit difficult as a strange pressure was on his chest. It wasn’t overly heavy, nothing that kept him from breathing in its entirety but certainly a pressure he wasn’t used to waking up too.

        Yawning, Ratchet grimaced when he realized his mouth was dry and his back ached more than usual.  Whatever he had managed to fall asleep on the night before had prompted his back to protest it in morning.    

        Pulling his eyelids apart, Ratchet squinted at the blurry red mass curled up on his chest. At first he couldn’t register what it was, but after blinking and clearing his vision, he knew all too well what it was.

        A pup. The red one named Perceptor if his memory served him right, curled up into a perfect ball on his chest like some glorified cat. With its arms and little hands tucked close to its chest, it had wrapped its tail around its body to make a perfect little loaf.

        That had indeed confirmed the events from the last few days and that this all wasn’t some strange fever dream brought on by the island’s heat. Ratchet had indeed come across a group of distressed sirens and for whatever reason, helped them.

“Nng-” Sitting up as carefully as possible as to not disturb the sleeping pup, Ratchet glanced around the room. His hair clung to his face and he quickly brushed it away to squint into the dim room. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtain, giving the room a gentle glow. Outside the gentle waves could be heard rolling in and out.

        At what point the night before he had gotten so tired he had settled for the worn down house’s couch which looked equally as worn down for a place to sleep, he wasn’t sure. The rocks outside on the sandy beach would have been a better place to rest his head rather than the sad excuse for pillows on the sofa.  Nor was he really sure when and why Perceptor has decided he was a good place to sleep on.

        In the center of the living room, Kup’s massive body had taken up nearly the entire center rug. The remainder of his pups had been tucked close to his belly, all sleeping in equal positions to match Perceptor.

        As if using his body like a massive shield, Kup kept himself wrapped around the pups protectively. His back was towards the front door while the pups remained exposed in Ratchet’s direction, giving him a good view of them all.

        Springer had his head tucked under Kup’s chin, Rodimus and Drift slept side by side, and Whirl, who took up the most space, had his head resting on Kup’s lower tail. Each of their little bellies rose and fell as they slept and every few minutes one would shift and cause the rest to peep in response. They settled almost immediately and were quite unlike Kup, who seemed to be a rather loud sleeper.

        Flat nostrils flaring, Kup huffed harshly with each breath, his large belly rising and falling in a soothing manner. He chattered sometimes, raising one arm to scratch lazily under his armpit before bringing it down and pulling Springer closer.

        Watching in wonder as the gills long Kup’s sides also flailed with each breath, Ratchet found his mind wandering. Utterly fascinated by the fact there was a creature advanced enough to breathe both on land and in water so naturally was mind boggling, not to mention the possibility these creatures could communicate, even if sparsely.

        He had to admit, before he had moved to the island the thought of sirens and their kind had never interested him. To him they had been nothing more than another animal he happened to share the same planet with, but now… now things were different.

        A curiosity he hadn’t had since he was younger had been sparked, and more than anything he wanted to know more. If sirens could do all of those things, what else were they capable of doing? He had never been so interested to learn about them until now.

        Licking dry lips, Ratchet grunted as the realization his mouth was still uncomfortably dry. Getting up and heading to the kitchen wouldn’t normally be an issue, but with Perceptor still curled up and cuddled against him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to move.

        As gently as possible, Ratchet slid his hands under the pup’s soft belly and lifted him against his chest. As he shifted and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa, Perceptor peeped in his arms.

        “Shh.” Ratchet cooed, rubbing Perceptor’s back as he stood up and stretched his legs. “Shh.” Perceptor’s little eyes opened and he whined at being disturbed. Yawning and flashing little fangs, Perceptor snuggled back against Ratchet and settled.

        Walking with light steps, Ratchet moved close to the center of the room where Kup was curled up. Squatting down and placing Perceptor in the first available hole between the other pups, he sat there and watched.

        The pup pile squirmed at the additional body making the already cramped space even tighter. They flipped their tails and flapped their little arms at one another, peeping in protest at being moved about. Fins flapped and they slapped one another until finally they all settled against Kup once more.

        Kup, who seemed undisturbed by the commotion only flapped his tail against the ground and grunted. At no point did he open his eyes, but instead curl his tail around the pup pile a little tighter.

        Reaching out to touch Kup’s shoulder, Ratchet found himself hesitating to do so for the umpteenth time.  Still, everything seemed so surreal. Not that that had been a bad thing, as the bewilderment and astonishment had left Ratchet feeling a bit revitalized. A part of him wished he would never get used to it.

        Standing back up with a grunt, Ratchet rubbed the middle of his back as he made his way towards the kitchen.       

        Much like the rest of the house, the kitchen was low lit, some sunlight spilling through the drawn curtains to the far right of the room. Once he pulled them open and allowing the sun to spill in, Ratchet grabbed the bottom of the window and slid it open with a bit of effort.

        A cool breeze wafted in, spilling over Ratchet’s hands, a sweet summer scent followed. It made the hair on Ratchet’s arms stand up as he took a deep breath and sighed contently. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to do such a mundane and simple task as opening a window and taking in the early morning air.

        A part of him was always going to miss the rush of the ER back on the mainland, but a part of him couldn’t be happier to finally settle and slow down. Maybe he really was becoming an old man.

        Standing by the window for at least another minute longer to relish that lovely breeze, Ratchet finally turned his attention to a few boxes stacked in the corner. No more than three, with nothing but a few plates and kitchen items he had from his old apartment. In truth there was really nothing more than mugs. Practically living at the hospital, he had gotten used to eating there, leaving him with nothing more than necessities when it came to home items.

        Picking up one of the boxes and setting it on the table, Ratchet pulled it open and rifled around inside. Pulling a green mug out, he turned it and looked inside. Blowing into it to dislodge some of the dust, Ratchet grunted approvingly. Clean, or close enough to it.

        Setting the mug down and returning his hands to the inside of the box, he extracted a kettle next. In this day and age things like kettles should have been extinct, but it did its job and that’s all he could ask for.

        Taking the kettle to the sink, Ratchet filled it and set it down on the counter. Plugging it in and letting it warm, he returned to the box on the table. Pulling a box no larger than his hand but slightly crushed from the travels, Ratchet set it down on the table. It was red and white with little peppermints decorating the sides. Flipping the lid open, he counted about seven tea bags before removing one and plopping it inside of the mug sitting idle by his side.

        By the time he turned back around, steam was wafting from the kettle’s nozzle at a steady flow. There was the soft rumble of the water boiling on the inside and right before it started to whistle, Ratchet unplugged it.

        Taking the kettle’s handle and bringing the nozzle over to his mug, Ratchet filled his mug half way before setting the kettle down to cool. In the meantime, Ratchet found himself a spoon to nudge around the tea bag with until the water darkened.

        As he worked his eyes wandered around the counter, taking note of the cracks and grime. The place could use a scrub down and in due time it would get it. First he had to focus on getting more important things like a better stove, a fridge, and proper furniture. Sure there was plenty of leftover furniture from the previous owners that he could just inherited, but due to the house being exposed to the elements due to the holes in the roof, most of the good furniture was dry rotting. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep on the sofa again when it looked like the slightest draft might have it collapsing under his body.

        His back ached at the thought and he took a sip of his tea, licking his lips as his dry mouth was finally satisfied. The thought of a nice new fluffy bed had him humming. His body had grown so accustomed to sleeping in the mainland’s hospital bed during his shifts off that the thought of sleeping on something with a pillow top had him shivering. That would be something he would order today. There was no way he was going to spend another night on that soggy excuse of a sofa with questionable pillows for his head.

        Taking another sip of his tea, Ratchet’s ears perked up at the sound of a soft peep behind him. It came again as he turned around and spotted the white and red mer sitting by the door frame. Drift, if he remembers correctly, long and lean, a few spots of yellow running along his body but the most noticeable thing about him were the long fins extending from the sides of his head. Ears? Ratchet wasn’t exactly sure, but he was adorable regardless.

        Eyes half lidded, Drift swayed where he sat as if he had just woken up. It was odd; he could have passed for a child sitting on the floor if not for his long tail following behind him. His little face scrunched up and his little nose wiggled in Ratchet’s direction, curious.

        Squatting down, Ratchet held out his hand towards Drift, making a soft kissing noise with his mouth.

        “Hey little one,” Resting his mug on his knee, Ratchet watched as Drift’s finals perked up, “what are you doing?” Speaking softly, Ratchet watched Drift scoot himself into the room, his little belly squeaking across the linoleum floor.  The floor’s surface didn’t seem to bother him as he scooted along. At first Ratchet would have thought anything but sand would have irritated their undersides, but now that he thought about it the pup’s were pretty mobile on everything he had seen them on so far.

        Pausing at Ratchet’s knee, Drift stretched his neck and sniffed at the side of his mug. Peeping curiously, Drift reached up and touched it. Tapping his little claws against the ceramic, he purred at the warmth and then reached for the mugs lip. Tugging it towards himself to try and see what was inside, he scooted even closer to Ratchet to investigate.

        “No, no,” Ratchet pulled the mug up and away from Drift, “Hot. Too hot.” Patting Drift on the head, he was delighted to see Drift respond by nudging harder into his palm. Seeming to like the affection, Drift purred and tried to get more out from Ratchet, which he was more than happy to give.

        Running his hand down along Drift’s back, Ratchet rubbed his fingers into Drift’s little spine and all around his fins. Finding out almost immediately at Drift like to be scratched just under the fins lining his sides, Ratchet itched them for a few minutes until Drift rolled over onto his back. With his little hands, he slapped his belly, letting Ratchet know to pet him there next.

        “Oh, you like that?” Ratchet chuckled and he scratched Drift’s plump belly, taking note how soft the skin was. He wondered if the softness was due to Drift’s age or simply because he looked in good health. He was lean, but had a plump belly, no doubt from the night’s previous dinner. The fins along his side were unscathed, no chips or scars in them telling Ratchet he was well groomed and protected. Ratchet had been certain that the rest of the pups would be in the same condition as Drift, whole and happy.

        Taking one of Drift’s little webbed hands into his own, Ratchet ran his thumb over Drift’s little palm, loving it. His little webbed fingers were cuter than he would ever admit but his long almost clear nails could probably tear him apart if threatened.

        Just outside of the room Ratchet could hear the other pups starting to peep as well. Not exactly sure of their sleep schedule if they even had one at all, it seemed now was the time they were all rousing from their slumber.

        “Come on little puppy,” Scooping Drift up and against his chest, Ratchet stood himself up, his knees popping in protest, “let’s go see what the others are getting into.” As if held before, Drift swiveled his hips to allow the mass part of his tail to sit comfortably on Ratchet’s forearm. Once settled he stretched his neck up to sniff at Ratchet’s slightly disheveled beard. Interested in it, his little hands came up to touch and rub all over it. Peeping in delight at the texture, Drift pressed his cold and flat nose against Ratchet’s cheek, sniffing him. His attention shifted towards Ratchet’s mug once more, now high enough to see the liquid in the cup. Interested one more, Drift reached out with little hands to try and grab it. Gripping the mug’s lip, Ratchet once again tried to pull it away from him as he walked towards the living room.

Rodimus squeaked as Kup lapped from the middle of his aback up to the back of his head with one long lick. A second lick came, and then a third and Rodimus had had his fill of being groomed. He squeaked again, flipping in Kup's arms and scooting out from his grasp as quickly as his little arms could drag him.

        Slapping his hand down on Rodimus' tail, Kup pulled the escaping pup back and continued his grooming as if this was the most normal thing he had to deal with all day. It was usual for the pups to protest their daily grooming times, but Rodimus was the most vocal of them all. He would huff, slap his fins against his little body, and snort at Kup as if it would make any difference.

        Peep!~

        Rodimus squealed, rolling in place and patting Kup's face as the mer got to work on his belly and then the long and beautiful golden fins lining Rodimus' sides. Kup was more than careful when it came to grooming them, taking special care not to tear the thin skin that made up the golden fin.  

        Curled against the bottom of his tail still asleep, Perceptor seemed unfazed by the slight jostling of Kup trying to keep Rodimus in place. Instead he slept soundly, on occasion his little hands kneading into Kup's side.

        Further down, Springer was up and about but had his attention focused on Kup's flapping tail. Every few minutes the larger mer would slide it across the floor in one direction and Springer would chase after it. Grabbing at the little bits that made up Kup's tail, Springer would bite into it, making Kup flap his tail a little harder. When Kup managed to flick hard enough that Springer would slide off, the big green pup would make chase once more.

        Blurr, the all blue mer with a lovely white belly was sitting by the front door. He sniffed at the floor mat and dug his claws into it, pulling it up as if he was a cat scratching a post.

        Last but not least, Whirl, the most exotic of the group seemed to have been a bit more curious than the rest. Having taken interest in the sofa, Whirl had stuffed his head underneath it. His claws and little feet clicked against the floor as he tried to stuff himself under it as far as he could, but when his shoulders wouldn't allow any further, he hooted.

        It had been hard to tell what he had been up to at first, but his neck turned from side to side as he inspected the underside of the sofa. In a matter of minutes he backed himself out, something in his claws.  

        The little crab flailed in Whirl's grip, its own little pincers snapping about as it protested to being grabbed. It flailed harder when Whirl squeezed it, cracking its shell open and exposing its tasty insides.

        Hooting in delight, Whirl got right to work peeling the crab's shell away to get at the meat inside.

        Ratchet, who had walked in and watched everything, shivered. He hadn't thought at first some of the wildlife might have gotten in through others holes in the house not related to the roof. All the more reason to get the place patched up as soon as possible.

        Bending down and placing Drift on the floor, Ratchet gave the pup an affectionate pat on the head before watching him scoot over to the larger mer.

        Kup, who had looked up when Ratchet entered, let out a low chitter in response to his presence. As his focus turned to Ratchet, he lost grip of Rodimus, who took his chance and scooted out from Kup's grasp as quickly as possible.

        "Rod-" Kup turned back to face the fleeing pup, his hand slapping down to try and catch his tail against the floor again but he came up bare this time. Huffing in frustration, he flicked his tail again and chittered at Rodimus who peeped his way across the room.

        "How are you feeling?" Ratchet asked as Kup huffed and looked up at him. His expression seemed confused at first as if he didn't understand Ratchet right away. He blinked as he watched Ratchet squat down to his level to talk.

        "Okay." Kup responded, his eyes shifting to Ratchet's mug. Much like Drift, he leaned closed and sniffed, curious. "Not hurting."

        "Good, that's good." Setting his mug down, Ratchet looked at the bandages along Kup's body. Already they looked better than the night before. There had been no sign of bleeding through, and most if not all of the patches were white. "Do you mind if I-" Pointing at the patches, Ratchet watched Kup look down and process what he meant before nodding.

        Removing a large patch from Kup's chest first, Ratchet was slow in peeling off the tape and folding back the patch to see the wound’s progression. A part of him shouldn't have been surprised that the wound was almost completely healed. Nearly all of the smaller wounds on Kup's body had managed to close completely in just the few days he had been injured while the larger wounds had finally scabbed over.

        "Wow-" Running the tips of his fingers over Kup's chest, Ratchet traced over a faint scar. Body littered with them, Kup's rough hide told a different story than each of his pups. Unlike his pups, his skin was rough to the touch, at least his arms and his upper chest were. When it came to his lower belly and the underside of his tail, the skin was softer. Perhaps the skin hardened with age as a defense against everything else living in the ocean with him, or perhaps it was just a sign Kup had lived a hard life.

        Next, Ratchet looked over Kup's arms, focusing on a few cuts that still seemed a bit inflamed, but ultimately it was nothing to worry about. Lower and lower his hands went until finally Ratchet had Kup's webbed hand in his own.

        Turning Kup's hand so his palm was facing up, Ratchet ran his thumbs over the center. It was incredible at how human it looked. The only thing that had truly been different was the thick and slippery material that webbed each of Kup's fingers together.

        "Incredible." Ratchet spoke softly, continuing to rub around Kup's hand in wonder. He touched his wrist and followed the tendons down, amazing at how the anatomy lined up perfectly with his own body. Why wouldn't it though? Kup's entire upper half could pass for human, where exactly did it start to break off and make him the amazing creature he was? Around the hips, Ratchet had to guess, where his genital slit started and his tail ended, it was a mystery.

        Rubbing the tips of Kup's fingers, Ratchet glanced up at Kup's face, seeing a soft smile at the curiosity.

        "I'm sorry-" He hadn't realized he was ogling the mer, but when he tried to pull his hand back, Kup squeezed the doctor's fingers.

        With his thumb, Kup nudged Ratchet's fingers apart to expose his pink palm. As if mimicking what Ratchet had just done, Kup leaned in and took a closer look at the doctor's hand. He peeped, his tail flipping behind him as Springer was still gnawing on him.

        "Same." Kup spoke, poking at a few of Ratchet's fingers. "Same?"

        "Almost, but not quite." Ratchet watched Kup poke a finger through the gap between Ratchet's fingers as if confused why there was no webbing. Lifting his own free hand, Kup spread his fingers and looked at the webbing as if to confirm it was strange Ratchet didn't have any.

        Flat nostrils flaring, Kup glanced up, his eyes focusing on one of the long orange locks of Ratchet's hair that had draped itself over the doctor's shoulder.

        Releasing Ratchet's hand, Kup reached out and took the lock of hair into his hand. Without pulling, he ran his thumb over it, seeming to be amused by the softness of it.

        Unable to help a chuckle, Ratchet recalled the pups seeming to enjoy touching his beard. Maybe they just liked the texture of it, or maybe they just didn't know what it was due to the fact they didn't have any themselves.

        "This?" Kup pulled it closer, pressing it against his flat nose to get a sniff. It smelt exactly like Ratchet, and he purred.

        "Hair." Ratchet responded, reaching back behind his head, he brought more around for Kup to touch.

        Taking more into his hands, Kup ran his nails through it, his purring getting louder. When he realized this hair was also around Ratchet's face, he dropped the long strands and scooted closer to the doctor.

        Hesitantly, he reached out, but then touched Ratchet's cheeks and rubbed a beard that needed a proper grooming. His attention on Ratchet's facial hair didn't last long, as Kup's attention shifted toward the buttons of his dirty white shirt.

        As Kup started to pull at the buttons, Ratchet just sat back and allowed the curious creature to explore.

        Behind Ratchet, Drift had curled himself around the warm mug, his little hands dipping into the liquid inside. Pulling them out, he licked at his fingers, enjoying the taste of peppermint as long as he could before Ratchet noticed.

        As Kup stuck his fingers into the little pocket on the front of Ratchet's shirt, the doctor couldn't help but smile.

How has life been so boring up until now?

Chapter Text

It had only taken two days to move the old rickety furniture from the house and replace it with what Ratchet had managed to salvage from his home on the Mainland. With the help of a local moving company, he had the last bit of it in the house and placed by noon, leaving him plenty of time to finish other tasks that needed his attention.

        The house in general needed a lot of work, despite the new furniture it was still a bit of a dump. Thankfully the electricity was an easy repair once the circuit breaker had been replaced and thankfully the water piping in the house had remained intact enough that Ratchet didn't have to mess with it.

        The roof had been a different story, and a task that Ratchet had put on the top of his list of things to do. It had been ages since he had to do any upkeep on a house himself, but something about it felt good. At least until a half a dozen shingles hammered in place had his wrists aching terribly.

        Every half an hour he would take a break, sit down and face the ocean. Downward on the beach he could see the faint shapes of the mers scooting about in the sand. It was curious how that didn't seem to stray far. In fact when Ratchet started work initially a few of Kup's pups had sat below the house and watched Ratchet work. Curious little things they were.

        By the time Ratchet had managed to patch all of the holes the sun had already started to sink past the horizon. Before climbing down from the roof, Ratchet gave each patch job a good look before finally grunting at his work. Hopefully the patches would hold but until he got a decent rain he wouldn't know just how well he had done. No point in worrying about it now, it was one more thing checked off the list for now.

        After giving the interior of the house a deep clean and clearing out the last of the stowaway crustaceans for Whirl to catch and eat Ratchet was finally delighted to call it a night. If there was one thing that had happened during the day that Ratchet was most happy about, it was his new beds arrival. Not having to sleep on that slightly damp and ragged sofa had been a relief. Now he had nothing but plush memory foam and warm blankets to look forward too.

        With nothing left on the homestead to attend to, Ratchet was left with nothing but the clinic to finalize. The majority of what he needed to do was unpack and prepare for clients. Despite no longer desiring to take on a larger cliental, a part of him had been a bit desperate to get back to work, even if it was a few patients during the week.

        A past version of himself would have left bright and early in the morning, but when he arose from his covers and exited into the living room, he paused.

        Kup had been curled up on the new center rug, his pups sleeping against him. He had been awake, casually grooming his own arms before spotting Ratchet enter. His face perked up and his tail curled only a little bit as to not wake the pups.

        He hadn't really left Kup and the pups alone since finding them. Sure he had left the house for a few hours at a time for supplies, but at the time Kup was still healing. At the time Ratchet had assumed Kup loafed about the house and the nearby beach because swimming off was too dangerous for him and his pups. In the few days Ratchet had attended to his wounds, he had healed alarmingly fast, at least to Ratchet's knowledge of how wounds should heal.

        There had been nothing but faint scars left were the netting had cut him open, and they blended in with the other scars along his body. He was in perfect shape now, and so were the pups.

        He hadn't been sure this time that if he left and came back, they would still be here. Sure he could close the door, but Kup had thumbs, and from what Ratchet had already figured out, he wasn't stupid. Kup could leave and take his pups with him at any moment, and Ratchet would be left with an empty house and nothing but a fisherman's tale.

        It hadn't been until a heavy wave of emotion rolled over his chest that he had realized just how attached he had gotten to these things in such a short amount of time. Sure sirens were known to woo men and carry them to their death beneath the water, but what about ones that just... mad an old man slightly happier in his solitude.

        Regardless, he had to go, and before he did, he patted Kup on the shoulder. Giving the mer a wordless smile, he received one back. Below, the pups stirred, and Drift yawned before rolling over onto his back and tucking his little arms against his chest. God, they were cute... too cute.

        Giving Drift's plump little belly a good rub for good measure, Ratchet stood and moved for the door. Exiting and closing it behind him, he sighed, heading off to work.

        For the few hours he had been at the clinic, taking inventory, he couldn't get them out of his head. Where they already gone? What were they doing? Were they on the beach sunning themselves? Or already migrating somewhere else?

        When it had come time to go back home, Ratchet had found himself driving a bit faster than normal. The closer he got to his parking spot by the beach the harder his heart pounded. Step after step he drew closer to the corner the house had been hidden on, and he came to a halt.

        Heart fluttering in his chest, he felt the corners of his mouth curve upward at the sight. There, in the distance, Kup sat in the sand, his lower fins flapping in the sand to toss some onto his back. Around him the pups chirped and moved about, a few of them scooting off into the water before scooting back out and tackling one another.

        They had stayed.

        Taking a step closer, Ratchet noticed Kup look up at him and then suddenly perk up when he registered Ratchet's lab coat. His fins fluttered faster and he turned to face the good doctor. He opened his mouth, fangs showing as he let out what Ratchet could only imagine as some sort of greeting.

        Pushing himself along the sand, he scooted his large body towards Ratchet, meeting him halfway. His tail flopped back and forth as a loud vibrating hum suddenly emitted from him- a purr, perhaps?

        Upon hearing Kup's sudden call, the pups sat up in attention, their eyes searching for him. When they had located him and spotted Ratchet by his side, they rushed towards them. Scooting around both Kup and Ratchet, they barked and squealed. Every single one of them seemed delighted he was home.  

        He could get used to this, the feeling of being missed. How many times had he come home to an empty apartment to make a single coffee, shower, and sleep? He was away from home to often to have a pet, so the ever building loneliness was always there, even if he damped it behind work.

        Except today he wasn't feeling it as harshly as he used to.

        Kneeling down to pet every pup that shoved its way into his lap, he couldn't help but laugh. They climbed his shirt, licked his face and nuzzled their heads under his chin. Oh yeah, he could get used to this.

        "Come on, let's get inside," Pulling the pups from his shirt, Ratchet stood and brushed the sand from his pants, "I think I have some salmon left over we can make for dinner tonight." A symphony of delighted peeps followed him into the house.

        After dinner, Ratchet had been pleased to see Kup still lingering around. As much as earlier had put him to ease, he was still weary that any moment Kup would leave. He had been pleased to see Kup scooting into the living room, his pups following closely at his sides. Taking up his usual spot on the around carpet, he laid down.

        A soft chirp followed from Kup's throat and the pups cocked their heads, listening to him. Scooting over and against him they cuddled up against his body, waiting patiently for him to curl his tail around them like a barrier.

        They shifted to get comfortable, peeping at one another as they pushed and shoved themselves into place before finally settling. They peeped softly as Kup licked at the tops of their heads, grooming them like the good parent he was after a large meal. He nibbled at their tail tips, then their fins, and their heads last, lulling them to sleep as he worked.

        A few remained awake, grooming Kup back. With limited mobility, they focused on whatever they could, usually one of Kup's side fins, which they lapped at until finally falling off to sleep themselves.

        Having been watching from the sofa, Ratchet couldn't help but lower the book he had been reading to spectate. There was really nothing fascinating about animals cleaning one another, and yet, these creatures were so captivating, so full of emotion. They could cry, they could express pain and happiness, it was just... incredible. They were simply incredible, affectionate beings that he realized he didn't really know anything about other than common local knowledge.

        Of course local knowledge had told people to stay away from these territorial creatures. At all corners they were dangerous and not to be interacted with, and it was a shame. Of course it was for safety reasons that thankfully benefited both humans and the sirens, but the stigma remained against them.

        Pushing himself off the sofa and vanishing off into his study, Ratchet returned moments later with a leather bound journal in hand. Wrapped securely with a small leather strap, Ratchet untied it as he sat back down. Pulling a pen out of the small end table by the side of the couch, he flipped the journal open to the first blank page.

        Pressing the pen to the page, Ratchet looked up at Kup one last time before he started to write.

        Sirens are social creatures, at the core so much more emotional than I had first thought. They show strong family bonds, protective instincts towards not only their young but the pups to their parents.

        Much to my surprise, they have the mental ability to speak, not just in their own language but in human tongue as well. Kup, who has spoken several times, struggles. He can't always understand what I say, but he tries and insists I repeat myself. Their want and need to learn is admirable.

        He remembered the pups hissing at him when he had first approached Kup. It hadn't mattered that Ratchet could have easily swatted them away; they still tried their best to defend Kup.

        Their skin is something that has perplexed me. The adults appear to have thicker skin, which is a given due to their habitat. Noteworthy is their ability to heal. Whether it is a common trait among mers or only genetic for a few, Kup has healed deep lacerations in less than a week.

        Then again he hadn't really known Kup's physical limits. The scars on his body to echo previous injuries had suggested he had survived wounds just like it on his own.

        The pups have thinner skin, though still tough they are sensitive to the hot sands during the middle of the day and seek shadier spots. Also noteworthy is their prolonged time from the water. It seems their skin can handle long periods of dry spells without damage.

        Jotting down a few more notes, Ratchet scribbled a little picture of Kup down on the side of the page. Giving it a bit of shading, he progressed with his observations.

        Kup is a solid green siren, age unknown. Siren lifespan information N/A but if I had to guess he seems well into his adult years. Having what appear to be six pups, I am unsure if they are his own. Only one of the six is green and even then the color is significantly brighter than Kup. How color genes are spread from partner to partner is also unknown. Whether sirens are capable of mating with more than one mate at a time and producing multiple pups from more than one partner is also unknown.

        He supposed they could function like a litter of cats. Their biology would reveal itself in time to him the more he watched them, for now, he moved on.

        Tapping the pen against his lips, Ratchet watched Kup lap at the top of a sleeping Perceptor's head. Kup paused briefly to nuzzle the pup, purring and hugging them all close as he himself finally settled.

        Sirens are just as curious about humans as we are them. Kup being the most curious creature I have ever known has memorized me.

        Closing the journal and putting the pen back where he had gotten it, Ratchet sat back and sighed. Running a hand over his tired face, he stands.

        "Kup," The mer sat up a bit when his name was called, "goodnight." His voice was all but a whisper to keep from waking the pups.

        "Goodnight, Ratchet." Curling his tail around his pups a bit tighter, Kup settled back down. Resting his head in his arms, he watched Ratchet walk off towards his bedroom. His eyes fluttered and he yawned, fins flaring momentarily before finally he answered the call of sleep.

Like most mornings, Ratchet had woken before his alarm. Having roused himself with little protest, he stood and rubbed at his sore back. An aging body had no place doing so much housework on its own, and sure enough he could feel the entire day's work knotting at his lower back. Nothing a nice hot shower couldn't remedy though.

        Yawning and scratching at the side of his beard, Ratchet moved out from his room and took a sharp right into the bathroom. Heading right for the shower he pushed back the glass door and turned the nozzle on.

        The pipes behind the wall rattled and after a moment water spurt noisily from the shower head. Having extended his hand under the spray, Ratchet watched with tired eyes as it beat against his skin. Once hot enough he withdrew his hand and turned towards a small cabinet on the other side of the small room. Removing a towel from the cabinet, he placed it down on a small railing by the shower door.

        Undressing and quickly stepping into the shower and under the spray, Ratchet let his head dip low. The water beat against the back of his neck and he sighed contently, enjoying the feeling.

        Running his hand up along his shoulder, he squeezed at the sore muscles, cursing himself for getting so old so quickly. Pulling at a few strands of hair, Ratchet flipped them through his fingers. The gray was coming in thicker these days, soon there wouldn't be much left of his original hair color.

        Across the bathroom, the door creaked open only an inch before a flat green nose stuck its way in. The slits that made up Kup's nostrils flared a few times before they nudged at the door again, pushing it open further to allow his entire head to pop in.

        He tilted his head to the side, seeing Ratchet's fogged outline through the warped glass. The door to the shower hadn't been shut all the way and every time Ratchet lifted his arms to rinse his hair, Kup could see his elbows.

        Scooting himself into the bathroom, Kup slid across the tile floor, pausing briefly at the sink to sniff at the soak resting on the edge. Uninterested in the pink bar, he moved on, scooting closer to the shower only to stop and sniff at the towel hanging on the railing.

        Unaware of Kup's presence outside the shower door, Ratchet continued to scrub himself clean. Humming to himself on occasion, he closed his eyes and stepped under the showers spray. Running his hands up and down his face he made sure to scrub his beard nice and clean.

        Only when he felt something brush his leg did he put his head down and open his eyes. Vision obscured by the water, he tried to rub his eyes and step away from the water's spray.  

        "What the-" He blinked rapidly, spotting Kup next to him in the shower, "Kup?!" Stumbling back and hitting his back against the wall, Ratchet hurried to cover himself. "What are you- Kup -" The mer before him was flapping its fins and invading the space the shower's spray struck down. Seeming to enjoy the hot water, he gurgled and twisted in place so the water would get his back. " Get out! Kup! Git!" It had been fruitless, considering Kup was enjoying himself and flapping his fins so hard he was splashing water up at Ratchet. "KUP!"

        Sirens have no concept of privacy.

        Ratchet wrote as he sat at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in his free hand that he sipped every few paragraphs.

        This doesn't come as a surprise considering sirens themselves have no use for clothing. Nudity is common and simply accepted. Despite this fact, I do not recommend showering next to one with your extremities unguarded.

        It should also come as no surprise that when exposed to any kind of water, a siren will enjoy it to the fullest.

        After having exited the shower in a hurry, Kup had remained in the stall for a few more minutes before following Ratchet out. His innocent smile had kept Ratchet from getting angry and he couldn't help but sigh and just pat him on the shoulder.

        Kup follows me almost everywhere is I am home. Whether out of interest in what I'm doing or perhaps because he enjoys, he is always there, always watching. I believe if he hadn't had a limited vocabulary he would ask me endless questions.

        Much like the pups, he is curious about everything and how it works. If I take a mug from the cabinet and set it down, he will take it and look it over before I use it. Often watching a little too close for comfort at what I will do with it or anything in my possession. Not that it's a bad thing, as I'm learning that sirens seem to learn best visually.

        Not only could Kup pick up on most things by watching Ratchet do them over and over, but he had a strange habit of smelling everything. This however wasn't limited to just Kup the pups also often exhibited similar activities. Sniffing everything and anything to catalog it in their minds, Ratchet's lab coat was often a high interest item every few days.

        Kup has a strange need to touch everything, or at least stick his hands into things. Often I catch him putting his hand inside of my lab coat pocket, even when I am wearing it. It doesn't seem to matter if there is anything inside of it; he puts his hand in it anyway.

        Kup and the pups also exhibit interest in hair, whether that has to do with the fact they as a species have none and it's something fascinating to them or they just like the feeling of it, I am unsure.

        Every chance Kup could get he would play with Ratchet's hair, often curling it between the tips of his fingers that were not webbed. It was odd but it seemed to comfort him, and since it was harmless, Ratchet allowed Kup to play with it when he read each night. Though what he secretly loved the most were the pups touching his beard. Their little hands would pap against his face and rub up and down; sometimes they would even rub their face against his cheeks and purr.

        They like to be touched, or at least sirens that are not hostile like to be pet. The pups often display their bellies to me in hopes I rub them. Kup will do the same. Exposing their underbellies lowers their defense, which means I have earned their trust.

        Pups are not far off from human children. Despite not having a set of legs they can still move rather quickly when motivated. As stated before, they are also emotional creatures and because of this and their young nature, they often express themselves quite clearly.

        They get into everything and anything. The trash, my book shelves, anything they can grab they will. Pups also seem to fight with one another rather harshly. They have been observed to bite one another and tangle together but will often let go when one cries out. Kup has also been observed to pull them apart when they seem to be getting too rough with one another.

        It has also been observed that the pups enjoy being cuddled or held.

        As much as Ratchet wished he hadn't done it, he did accidentally step on a few tails. Sometimes pups would just squeal and scoot off and sulk, but sometimes they would cry. Perceptor, the little red pup, would often cry and hold his sore tail.

        This of course had prompted Ratchet to scoop the pup up and rock him, whispering his apologizes rapid fire to the sniffling pup until he settled and cuddled against him, forgiving him.

        Perceptor is extremely affectionate while the others seem to enjoy a moderate amount of attention. Kup on the other hand seems to require just as much attention as he pups. Often if he sees me giving them more attention he will nudge them aside and wait for me to pat him.

        Ratchet had also observed Kup carrying his pups in all sorts of different ways. Considering he has to use his arms to primarily move around, Kup will often pick up a pup with his mouth. Nipping them by the scruffs of their neck, he will carry them one by one to wherever he needs to go. Only on rare occasions will he see Kup holding them in his arms.

        I have decided to try and accommodate the house a little more for them, at least the door.

        He had considered a doggy door for the pups, considering how often they liked to travel in and out of the house. This normally is easily dealt with when Ratchet is home since he just leaves the door open for them to come and go, but when he is not home it's another story. Not to mention pups seem to be indecisive when it comes to coming and going.

        "Do you want to go out?" Ratchet looked down at Rodimus who sat with his tail curled around himself by the door. He perked up and peeped in delight at the question and scratched at the bottom of the door. "Okay." Opening the door and watching Rodimus scoot out, Ratchet closed it behind him. Upon taking a few steps away he heard scratching at the door.

        Turning around and opening the door to find none other than Rodimus just sitting there, Ratchet raised an eyebrow.

        "Want to come in?" He stepped aside and Rodimus scooted into the house and sat back down by the door. Waiting for Ratchet to close the door and walk away again, Rodimus peeped and scratched at the bottom of the door again. Oh boy.

        Among the curious things about these creatures are their eating habits. Kup has been observed digging for clams and crabs around the beach to eat for himself. I have yet to observe the pups doing the same but I have witnessed Kup bringing them opened clams and fish every once in awhile.

        I have also discovered that they are certainly interested in cooked fish just as much as raw. Anything I can grill they seem to enjoy as long as it is from the ocean. Though one day while bringing in a few groceries I had accidentally dropped a small melon on the floor. Of course it had broken apart and to my surprise the pups had gone right to it.

        He had cursed to himself over the ruined melon, but the moment he saw the pups little hands making a grab for the pieces, he put his hands on his hips and watched them. Bringing the jagged slices to their mouths, they crunched down on the fruit, their tails wagging in delight over the sweet treat.

        The mess they made after tearing the melon apart was a nightmare to clean up, but Ratchet couldn't help but just sit and watch them. They were adorable, peeping at one another and pushing each other for more slices.

        Sirens are observed to be omnivores. Kup on the other hand wasn't as interested in the fruits at the pups, perhaps they have personal tastes. I will try experimenting with other fruits at a late time.

        It hadn't mattered that Kup wasn't interested in the fruits considering he licked the remains of it off the pups when they were done. Grooming each pup until they were no longer sticky, he sat back, satisfied with himself.

        Will try fishing with Kup at a later point.

           The sun had sunk well past the horizon line and the beautifully red stained sky grew darker. Off in the distance bugs could be heard chirping softly while the calm rolling waves of the ocean had lulled Ratchet from where he sat.

        With his feet in the sand and his journal in hand, he had watched the pups play, sunbathe and attempt to catch seagulls. There had been little to note down about their playfulness, but Ratchet instead took up drawing each one of them. Adding notes around each of their bodies indicating different anatomy points and extra fins were others had not had them, he scratched at the side of his head with his pen.

        Kup had moved past him every so often, going inside of the house only to come back out and sunbathe for a little while longer. At one point Ratchet had stopped noticing him moving about all together, less concerned with what he was getting up too.

        Only when he started to notice fewer and fewer pups on the beach did he look up and search for Kup. He had been just a few feet away, scooting towards Drift only to lean down and bite the back of the pup's neck. He picked him up and turned back towards the beach house. Scooting casually, he moved past Ratchet who turned to watch where he was going.

        Eventually he stood when Kup took a turn down one of the halls in the house. Following the mer into the spare room, Ratchet stopped just past the door's threshold.  

        There in the corner of the room beside the spare bed was what appeared to be some form of a nest. Crafted with stray blankets and pillows in a circular shape, Kup set Drift down in it with the other pups. He peeped at them and licked Drift's head while grunted something that Ratchet could only assume was Kup telling Drift to stay put.

        The pups listened to him as he left and returned with another pup, repeating these actions until he had every single one of them where he wanted them. After a head count by pressing the flat of his nose against each of their heads, Kup sat back contentedly.

        Expecting Kup to somehow wedge himself into the tiny nest with his pups, Ratchet is all too surprised to see the mer turn towards the spare bed. Before he could say or do anything, Kup was climbing onto it. Claws clinging to the covers he slid off a bit before using his tail as leverage.

        Getting himself up less-than-gracefully, he twirled around and let himself come to a rest.  It seemed Kup had gotten tired of the living room's carpet. Who could blame him?

        "Haha." Ratchet couldn't help the laugh as he watched Kup curl his tail around himself. Already Kup and the pups were spoiled. He couldn't imagine them having a bed and blankets before they met him. "I don't know how you manage all of them?" Stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed, Ratchet crossed his arms.

        "Love them, my pups." Kup says as he follows Ratchet's gaze down to the softly peeping clump of pups. "My pups." Despite Ratchet being well aware of that by now, Kup constantly had to repeat my pups. As if afraid someone might doubt it, he had to say it.

        "They are." Glancing to his right, Ratchet noticed Kup staring at him. The mer tilted his head and have him a funny look.

        "Where are Ratchet's pups?" Kup asked, all too innocently. "Ratchet has pups?"

        "Haha!" The laugh had been louder than he had intended, but he had been startled. "No, no I don't have any pups of my own." The smile on Ratchet's face faded when he noticed Kup's sad look.

        "Lonely, no pups." There had been little companionship in Ratchet's life and it had been lonely. It couldn't have been helped at the time, but now?

        "Not anymore." Reaching out and patting Kup on the back, Ratchet couldn't help but rub the base of one of Kup's fins. It quivered in his palm and the gills along Kup's side and neck flared. It must have felt nice.

        "Good night Kup." Finally standing, Ratchet left the room with the door slightly cracked in case they wanted to move about the house.

        Heading down the hall and towards his room, Ratchet immediately got himself ready for bed. Wiped out from the day's events, he flopped down onto his plush pillows and yanked the covers up. Cuddling into his pillows he tried not to think about the large empty space left on the bed made for two.

        Sighing softly, Ratchet allowed his eyes to flutter close.

Chapter Text

Upon settling into his newfound home, Ratchet had grown accustomed to walking the sandy beach shores every evening. He’d found himself traveling further and further each night, making note of the land and the areas Kup and the pups seemed to favor. The areas being far too rocky or too far from civilization for anybody to want to travel, leaving Ratchet’s little beach house to be more or less secluded and private. Private enough that Ratchet could walk by Kup’s side without raising suspicions.

          It had been peaceful, and Ratchet had found himself looking forward to their late evening walks day after day. He’d relished how excited the pups would get upon finding stray crabs along the sand or the way Kup would scoot along by his side.

          On one evening in particular, after having walked farther than they had before, Ratchet had come upon an abandoned skiff beached up on the rocks. From the looks of it, it had been there for awhile. The rope that had once tied it to a nearby rock had rotted away, leaving part of the rope to lay in the sand. Bits of wood had been scattered about, and Ratchet had taken note of the large hole along the boat’s side. He’d wondered if the previous owner had crashed it, or if leaving it to sit had just caused the wood to rot away. Regardless, Ratchet had found himself ignoring the heap of wood, simply sitting back and watching the pups scoot in an out of it through the hole in its side.

          Weeks later when Ratchet had finally decided he had wanted to try fishing with Kup had the discarded boat come to mind. He’d thought of it only after looking for cheap little skiffs to rent for the day and found most at best to be a little pricey and he certainly wasn’t in the market for a brand new one. Only then had he thought of the skiff along the beach.

          Sure, it was a hot mess of moss and wood but with a little love and effort Ratchet was sure he could get it seaworthy again. It may have been a long time since Ratchet repaired anything not alive, but he was sure he could figure out how to hammer in a few nails. If not, at least it would keep him busy for a few weekends considering he had more or less completed his work on the house.

          With Kup’s help, Ratchet had dragged the sad excuse of a skiff back to his house, losing only a few pieces of the boat along the way. By the time Ratchet had gotten it set up and ready for a remodel, it had looked more like a skeleton than a skiff.

          Working on it now and again on his days off, Ratchet had gotten most of the remodeling done on the weekends. With a bit of patch work and love, Ratchet had managed to more or less finish in less than two weeks times. Sure, the boat may have been two different colors due to new woods being patched near old, but it no longer had any holes.

          When it came time to test if his work had resulted in the shipwreck being able to float, Ratchet had made sure to wait for a day that the ocean waters were calm. If he was going to sink, he at least wanted to make sure he could swim back to shore in one piece. Though with Kup close by his side he could be assured the siren would fish him out if necessary.

          Kup had sat on the beach with his pups surrounding him as they all watched Ratchet shove the skiff across the sand. On occasion he would provide Ratchet with a honk of encouragement when he seemed to get stuck.

          Thankfully the skiff itself hadn’t been too heavy and Ratchet more or less got it into the water with a few good shoves and curses. Walking with it until the water had gone past his knees, Ratchet had hummed in delight when the skiff seemed to float. As a matter of precaution, he tugged it around for a few minutes, leaving it to sit only to peer inside and see if water had breached the inside, but it was dry. His handy work had paid off.

          Satisfied, Ratchet tugged the little boat back to shore, pulling it onto the sand just enough to get it stuck before looping the rope attached to it around a nearby rock. Once happy it wasn’t going to float away on him, Ratchet trudged back up to shore and put his hands on his hips, proud of himself.

          “What do you think?” He’d asked Kup who in turn just cocked his head and looked from the boat to Ratchet. “Could use a paint job but we can save that for another day.” In all honesty he wasn’t sure he was even going to bother painting it, something about the two clashing colors gave it a bit of character. Though having an old rickety looking boat might make him look like an old rickety man out to sea. “As long as we can catch some fish with it, right?”

          “Right.” Kup had granted Ratchet a toothy grin before his fat tail flopped around in delight across the sand. A few of the pups had peeped around Ratchet’s legs and followed him when he turned and walked up towards the house. From there Ratchet had vanished for a good ten minutes before finally returning with a heavy tackle box and fishing rod.

          He had changed, now sporting red and white swim trunks, red sandals, and a loose white shirt with a few holes in it. A pair of sunglasses had sat atop his head and his beautiful long white and orange hair had been tied up in a rather messy bun.

          “Ready?” Ratchet asked as he passed Kup and the pups. “Come on then.” Gesturing with the tackle box, Ratchet walked back over to his skiff and tossed the box and fishing rod inside. Un-looping the rope from the rock, he shoved the boat back out to sea and hopped inside. Allowing his prior momentum to scoot the boat out to sea, he sat himself down and adjusted himself before grabbing the ores.

          As he gave a firm row he watched Kup and the pups rush towards the water. One by one they dove in, zipping towards Ratchet right away as he worked his way out to sea.

          There had been several smaller islands that had surrounded the main island, some far too small and rocky for anybody to live on making them ideal fishing locations. Not only that but at night Ratchet could sometimes make out soft flickers of fire light on the distant island, no doubt college kids trying to get away with some underage drinking. Often he had seen others rowing out to several of the islands during the weekend to fish, but today had been a Tuesday and the waters were barren. A conscious choice Ratchet had made to allow himself and Kup some privacy. Hopefully anyway.

          The smaller islands had been the best bet for them to head to today, considering they were more or less left alone due to high siren activity. On hot and sunny days Ratchet bet if he rowed out towards the islands he would see other sirens basking in the sun there. He even wondered if Kup and his pups had done so before he had met them and figured they must have.

          It had taken a good twenty minutes of rowing and ten minutes of rest before Ratchet had reached a spot between two of the smaller islands that he deemed worthy. He had been far enough from the current that his skiff would bob in place and thankfully not move too far if a gust picked up. After giving the area a once-over, Ratchet had deemed it a worthy place to set up and start fishing.

          Sitting back and dragging his tackle box between his knees, Ratchet flipped the lid open and retrieved a hook and lure. As he got to work attaching it to his fishing line, he paused upon hearing the water around his boat slosh and shift.

          Leaning over the left side of the boat, Ratchet spotted Kup gliding along in the water. Completely submerged, he twisted in the water, his belly up at Ratchet as he vanished under the boat. Reappearing on the other side, he swam around in a wide arch, the pups all tucked close to Kup’s sides. They swam all around him, not just limited to the protection of his underbelly, but instead seemed to disperse all around him.

          Setting down his fishing rod and instead digging through his tackle box one more time, Ratchet pulled out his notebook and flipped it open.

          It comes as no surprise that sirens are significantly faster in the water. Kup, being a rather large and slow land creature is rather nimble in the water. The additional speed in the water makes Kup rather terrifying and the prospect of any person being in the water near a sirens territory doesn’t bode well.

          Ratchet had scribbled down as his eyes flicked upwards from the paper to sneak peaks at the pups.

          Kup’s pups seem even faster than he is, probably due to their smaller and narrower size.

          Ratchet had noted before his eyes seemed to linger on Blurr, who was by far, the fastest siren both on land and in the water that he had ever seen. He’d hummed at them tapping his pen against his lips before making a note of it. It had seemed odd that Kup would produce a nearly all blue siren pup when he himself was a solid deep green. Not to mention all of the pups seemed to have contrasting body times in comparison to Kup. Still, Ratchet had little knowledge about how sirens procreation had worked and had thought perhaps their color patterns could vary like a cats or if multiple mates were possible with one clutch. It had been difficult to say and perhaps too early to pry about it. For now, Ratchet just made a note of it to examine further at a later point.

          Only on land have I ever seen Kup’s pups wander far from his sides, though never out of his line of sight. Here in the water they seem to favor his sides and I cannot help but wonder at what age do they decide to break away from the protection of Kup.

          Again, with what little knowledge he had, Ratchet wasn’t even sure how old Kup or his pups were. How old was a pup when it was finally considered an adolescent, or an adult? He wasn’t sure. At what age do they lay their first clutch of eggs, do they even lay if there is no proper mate? He had no idea. He had more questions than answers and a part of him had considered visiting the aquarium deep in the center of the island to ask some of the more experienced locals. Perhaps they could direct him to some better answers to understanding Kup, though asking Kup directly did hail decent results.

          The pups favor Kup’s underbelly for safety when swimming with him, some lingering low by his tail. I have observed the pups touching Kup’s sides at some points when they are not looking at him to make sure he doesn’t turn away from them.

          Scribbling down a few more notes regarding Kup’s swimming patterns, Ratchet had found himself pausing when he spotted two little red hands clinging to the side of his boat. They tugged, not quite strong enough to rock the boat but enough to get Ratchet’s attention.

          As he leaned over the side, he spotted Perceptors cute little face peeping out from the water. The pup blinked up at him and then smiled, delighted he had managed to get the doctor’s attention.

          “Can I help you?” Ratchet had asked as he watched Perceptor’s second eyelids blink up at him a second time. He couldn’t help but smile when the pup responded to him with a pleased chitter and a flap of its fins. He hopped in the water and rolled onto his back when Ratchet reached down for him. “Oh, I see what you want.” Setting down his notebook and reaching back down into the water, Ratchet rubbed Perceptor’s wet little belly. The skin was warm and slippery, but the pup seemed to enjoy the content even if Ratchet felt like he was petting wet leather.

          It hadn’t taken long for other pups to notice what was going on before they too had appeared by Perceptor’s sides. Drift had been first, nose poking from the water curiously before he rolled onto his back. He’d peeped softly, eyes big and begging for belly rubs and Ratchet couldn’t say no to that sweet face.

          Rodimus popped up next, rolling into his back only to pap his little fish hands against his belly. Insisting that Ratchet also pet his belly, he slapped his belly quickly until the doctor did he wanted.

          “Alright, alright, there’s enough here for everybody.” Ratchet had said as he rubbed Rodimus’ beautiful golden fins.

          Suddenly, the pups that had congregated around Ratchet’s boat were lightly pushed away as Kup floated by. Also on his back, he grunted at Ratchet and patted his own fat belly when he was close enough.

          “Really?” Ratchet had laughed, probably harder than he should have but he leaned over the boats edge anyway to give the fat mer a pet. Sliding his hand along Kup’s body, his calloused fingers traced a few scars and the fresh ones he himself had tended to. Though healed, they were still fresh enough to leave pink marks across his skin. One day they would fade and match the rest that littered Kup’s body.

          Dispensing a few more pets the best he could between the needy bunch of pups and Kup, Ratchet finally sat back and put his attention back on his fishing rod. Securing the hook to the fishing line, Ratchet flipped his tackle box open once more and opened a container of fish chunks. Taking a piece, he poked it onto the hook before looking at it and out into the water.

          He’d been a little nervous at first to cast his line, worried the pups might go after it and accidentally hook themselves. Ratchet had considered getting lures with no hooks, but either way if a pup had swallowed it it would be trouble.

          Glancing over the back side of the boat and counting all of the pups, Ratchet made sure they were all their before casting the line far in the opposite direction of them. When the lure sank, Ratchet glanced back over his shoulder and did a second headcount to make sure all the pups had remained and was pleased when they were all still there. His nerves had settled when he gave the line a wiggle and the pups had ignored it. Good, though he would continue to keep an eye on them just in case.

          Sitting back, Ratchet pulled his sunglasses down and relaxed as he soaked up some sun. He’d started to doze when he felt his boat suddenly rock harshly to one side. Nearly losing his balance, Ratchet jerked up, sunglasses slightly crooked on his nose as he looked forward.

          Whirl, having pulled himself up into the boat currently had his head inside of Ratchet’s tackle box. His neck had shifted from side to side as he dug for whatever it was he was looking for, suddenly purring upon finding it.

          “H-hey!” Ratchet had snapped but Whirl had ignored him as he slipped a large claw into the box and withdrew some of Ratchet’s bait. “Git! Whirl! Git!” Leaning forward to scoot Whirl off the boat, the odd looking pup yanked its head free from the box and scattered across the skiff’s floor. He;d chittered, almost sounding like a laugh as he bailed overboard, several chunks of bait clamped tightly in its claws as he zipped out of Ratchet’s reach. “Damn… crab.” Opening his tackle box to see the damage to his bait stock, Ratchet mumbled to himself to see plenty left. He’d closed the lid and latched the box, though latched didn’t seem to stop Whirl.

          Taking a moment to glance around the boat and make sure Whirl wasn’t about to come back for seconds, Ratchet returned to his lounging position. Arms crossed sunglasses down, he dozed once more.

          Twenty minutes had passed and his line had remained still, unbitten and bobbing gently as the water rolled along. It hadn’t bothered him, considering he had figured taking several hungry sirens out fishing with him would scare off any potential bites. He had considered himself lucky to spot a passing sea turtle that had lingered a little while. It had seemed to take interest in the pups briefly before moving on to some nearby seaweed floating by. From there, it had moved on and Ratchet had considered himself lucky for even seeing that. No matter, he was still enjoying himself.

          The boat had rocked again and Ratchet looked up expecting to see Whirl trying to sneak seconds only to find Perceptor struggling to pull himself over the boats edge. His tail flapped in the water and he tossed himself in, landing a bit awkwardly on the skiff’s floor before sitting up and looking at Ratchet. The gills along his ribs and neck flared and he peeped at the man, scooting over to him instead of the tackle box.

          Without hesitation, Perceptor climbed into Ratchet’s lap and curled up into a neat soggy ball. Thankfully Ratchet had come prepared with his swim trunks and getting wet had hardly bothered him at this point.

          Yawning, Perceptor stretched and let his little head come to rest against Ratchet’s thigh. He had started purring when Ratchet rubbed at his cute little fins and in a matter of minutes, the red pup was taking a light afternoon snooze in the sun.

          Taking a light snooze himself, Ratchet had once again woken for the umpteenth time when the boat had really started to rock. He had been jerked awake, hands quickly going to his lap where he caught Percrptor before the pup was tossed from his lap. He winced when his tackle box flipped over, the contents on the inside spilling over onto the boats floor.

          “What the hell?” Setting Perceptor down and quickly putting the tackle boxes content back where it belonged, Ratchet felt the boat jerk again. This time causing Ratchet to lose his balance and claw at the side of the boat for support.

          Glancing over the edge of the boat Ratchet’s eyes scanned the oddly calm waters. Confused, he leaned back, looking at Perceptor who was peeping bitterly by his side.

          The water shifted and this time when Ratchet leaned over the front of the boat he spotted Kup’s tail. He’d just swam under the boat, his back nudging it just enough to make the skiff rock before appearing on the other side.

          “Kup!” Ratchet snapped as he rushed to the other side of the boat. Patting at the top of the water to get Kup’s attention, the good doctor’s eyes sprung wide when the swamp green siren suddenly arked in the water and zipped towards him. “N-no! No no, Kup wait!” Unable to stop Kup, Ratchet watched the siren turn hard, shouldering the boat until it rocked, hard .

          Attempting to try and balance himself and the boat, Ratchet had over corrected and accidentally brought the boat over. His back hit the water hard and he sank a few feet, limbs spread wide and eyes squeezed shut. Only when he felt himself halt his decent did he open his eyes in the crystal clear waters.

          He wondered if the scowl he made registered under water but from the looks of Kup’s mischievous smirk it hadn’t come across as angry as he had hoped. Instead, Kup had swam around him, his tail slightly coiling around Ratchet’s legs to draw him near. All around Kup, the pups had swam, their chirps sounding different under the water’s surface. They too looked equally as guilty as Kup.

          Taking a hold of Ratchet’s arm, Kup tugged the soaked doctor to the surface for a much needed gulp of air. Upon surfacing, Ratchet smoothed back a few stray strands of his hair and slapped water at Kup who snorted at him.

          “Lousy swamp thing.” Wadding around for a moment, Ratchet looked down to see the pups circling him, Springer taking a moment to play with the strings of his swim trunks before moving on. “It’s not funny, look at the boat now-” Ratchet scolded Kup who was still swimming circles around him and chittering.

          Lunging forward in an attempt to grab Kup, Ratchet hadn’t been surprised Kup zipped away from him with ease. Diving down below the surface, his pup’s followed him, and Ratchet did the same. Taking a deep breath, he dove, swimming after Kup at a staggering pace. He had no real hope of catching Kup, and from the way Kup sauntered under the water, he was aware of it.

          After what felt like an eternity of Kup gloating, the green siren finally decided Ratchet had had enough and swam over to him. Doing a few circles around him for good measure, he curled his tail around the man one more time and tugged him close. Almost afraid Ratchet might float away from him, Kup brushed his lower fins against Ratchet’s wrists. It had taken the man a moment to realize what Kup had wanted but finally took ahold of them.

          Twisting in Ratchet’s grip until Ratchet had his chest to Kup’s back, the siren began to swim. In a matter of seconds, the pups were by his sides, swimming all around the two of them as they went lower and lower.

          Pulling Ratchet to the ocean’s floor, Kup tugged him along through a brightly vegetated area. All sorts of beautiful corals where clustered along the rock formations, littered with seaweeds and anemones that danced with the water’s flow. He’d taken note of Kup swimming low against a patch of them, the tendrils running along the sensitive skin of his underbelly. He’d felt them against his bare legs and hummed to himself at the soft sensation.

          Holding on as Kup weaved in and out of rock formations, Ratchet watched the pups disperse from Kup’s sides to swim along their own paths. Darting in and out of corals, they rubbed along anemones, and paused when vulnerable crabs were startled from their homes.

          It was amazing, all of it, but the inevitable came knocking when Ratchet felt his chest aching and his lungs burning for air. They hadn’t been far from the surface thankfully, but it had still been too far for Ratchet to swim to on his own.

          Giving one of Kup’s fins a gentle tug, Ratchet had pointed to the surface when Kup looked over his shoulder. He’d paused, angling himself upward to look from the surface and then back down at Ratchet a moment. As if taking a moment to consider bringing Ratchet back up or not, Kup pulled the man against himself one more time.

          A soft sort of panic had set into Ratchet’s stomach as he wiggled in Kup’s hold. Unable to break away, he felt himself getting light headed and desperate. The more he struggled, the tighter Kup’s grip on him became until something brushed against Ratchet’s lips and he froze.

          Eyes wide, Ratchet felt Kup’s hands against his cheeks, keeping his head still as he kissed him. Or at least that it what it had felt like for the first second before air was suddenly flooding his throbbing lungs. He’d jerked in Kup’s hold, glancing down to see the gills along the sirens side’s flaring as Kup exhaled into him.

          When Kup’s grip finally released him, Ratchet felt himself floating downwards a bit, a bit dazed. Only when Kup grabbed his wrist to halt his decent did he blink back to reality and look up at the smiling siren.

          Face hot and heart pounding, Ratchet flapped his arms, floating upward a bit and taking a hold of Kup’s back when it had been offered to him again. Continuing on as if nothing had happened, Kup tugged Ratchet all around the ocean floor. Bringing him to one small reef after another, Kup had locked lips with him only two other times. He hadn’t struggled, the panic gone, and now just the wonder and harsh thump of his heart against his chest.

          Above, the beautiful crystal clear water had been died a soft pink, the sun above the surface starting to go down. Had they really been out there that long? All they had done was swim around, collect a few shells, and really just let the current set them drift.

          As they swam back to the surface, Ratchet had kept a close eye on Kup the entire time. He had noticed the smallest of smiles on the siren’s face, something akin to core delight as they swam together. It had Ratchet’s heart fluttering, and it was weird because he hadn’t felt it do that in a long time. Especially for something that wasn’t exactly human.

          Swimming back up to the boat, Kup had helped flip it back over and nudge Ratchet up into it. As the doctor wrung out his shirt, he thanked Kup softly when the siren reappeared with his tackle box that had sank to the ocean floor. The pups had returned with his ores and he set them back where they belonged. Upon retrieving his fishing line and pulling in the string, Ratchet sighed at the hook with the bait still on it. Better luck next time.

          Taking the bait off the hook and tossing it into the water, Blurr was quick to snatch it up. It took not three seconds for the others to hoard around the boat and peep at Ratchet as he tossed them the rest of his bait. He sort of felt like an old man feeding birds for a moment but birds didn’t have little baby hands that grabbed up at him for more. Not only that, but birds hadn’t tried to hitch a ride when they were fat and happy unlike the pups who now clawed at the side of the boat.

          Springer and Whirl had been the first to climb into the boat, taking their place on one of the wooden benches while Drift and Blurr climbed in next. Perceptors little red hands could be seen clawing at the sides again and Ratchet had leaned over, scooping him up out of the water to set him down by the others.

          Only when he had heard profuse splashing and hissing did he lean over the side again to see Rodimus swimming towards him. A fish was in his mouth and he hissed when it struggled. Giving it a good shake to quiet it down, he grabbed the side of the boat and climbed in without grace.

          Dropping the fish by Ratchet’s feet, Rodimus bit it only once more when it flopped about before smiling up at Ratchet.

          “Oh, is this for me?” Unable to help the smile that spread across his face when Rodimus’ tail wagged, Ratchet leaned down and picked the fish up. He looked it over, sighing when he noticed a large bite had been taken out of its tail. Oh well, it was the thought that counts and so far Rodimus had done more fishing than he had.

          Setting the fish into his tackle box, Ratchet grabbed the skiffs paddles and looked over his shoulder to the main island. As he was about to start paddling, the boat leaned hard to the left.

          “Wha-” Ratchet and the pups all jerked to the left as Kup tried to climb in next. “Kup wa-” The boat flipped, sending Ratchet and all of the pups flying into the water once more.

          With a little effort, they flipped the boat back over again and heaved Kup into it. Next, Ratchet one by one picked up each of Kup’s pups and set them down on the boats floor. Once everybody was aboard, Ratchet sighed, soaked to the core before finally rowing himself and his lazy sirens back to shore.

          “Lazy sardines.” Ratchet mumbled as he watched Kup lay down and curl his tail around his pups. He’d let his chin come to a rest on the boats edge as the pups groomed one another, simply enjoying the ride.

          Despite catching no actual fish and being tossed into the drink a few times, Ratchet found himself not wanting things any other way.

Chapter Text

In no time more than a few months had passed since Ratchet added Kup and the pups to his everyday life. Ratchet had wondered if all the time had flown by because of how well they coexisted day to day with each other. Hardly was his life ever truly interrupted due to their presence. When Ratchet was not at the clinic working, he was spending all of his time scribbling down in his journal everything he could about Kup and the pups. 

            Like most people, Ratchet had limited knowledge when it came to the merfolk who dwelled mostly in the ocean. It was rare to see a mer up close, let alone practically live with one. Truthfully, most people did their best to avoid them at all costs. The world’s view of mers at the moment was that they were wild animals and not intelligent beings. It didn’t take long for Ratchet to understand that mer were a complex and intelligent race alongside humans. Though, with a lack of understanding came fear, so humans rarely interacted with the sea creatures.

            So Ratchet scribbled notes and drawings of the mers in his notebooks every day, hoping to write a book about the creatures. Though at the moment, nobody but Ratchet could read his chicken scratch handwriting. No matter though, he was determined, even if it would take him a few good years to produce. 

            In the months that he had spent with Kup and the pups, he had already learned so much. Like the fact that not only could they pick up the human language, but they also had their form of communication. The pups would peep and chirp at one another and seem to understand each other quite well. Kup on the other hand would just let out low gurgled grunts at the pups and speak only to Ratchet in the doctor’s language. Even though Kup never really spoke his native species tongue, it was obvious from the way he grunted and purred at the pups that it was still in there somewhere. Not only that but every day talking with Ratchet, Kup’s English became clearer and clearer. Not only that, but his slow-paced speaking picked up when he was using words he frequented more often. It was like Ratchet was unconsciously teaching Kup at the same time. Though he was unsure at what age the pups would start speaking. As of now, they were limited to their peeping. Only so often did Ratchet hear them trying to mimic Kup and fail.

            Kup himself offered plenty to learn from, but it was the pups Ratchet learned the most from. He guessed that was because the pups themselves were learning and discovering themselves. He learned something new from each of them, how they all moved differently based on their body types. It was Whirl who was the most interesting since his body was vastly different from the others. More crab-like than mer, he scuttled rather than dragged himself on strong front arms like the others. He used more than one set of claws to pick things up and eat and didn’t appear to have any visible hands and fingers like the others. It was rather odd in fact.

            One of the very first things Ratchet had made a note of was that none of the pups outside of perhaps Springer, looked like Kup. Even then, Springer was a much brighter green and had different styled fins than Kup. Drift and Blurr had sleek bodies built for speed, while Kup was portly and more like a manatee. Not to mention once again, their color patterns didn’t match Kup at all. 

            Many nights Ratchet spent scratching his head, wondering about mer mating habits and if they were lifelong partners or just passing along genetic material. This could somewhat explain the different color patterns, but was a mers capable of having so many pups at once? Even if they could only have so many, was this wide color variety and physical differences possible in the species? Ratchet didn’t know, but he was determined to find out one day or another. In truth, the knowledge was no rush to him. Each new day he woke to the soft peeps of the pups and Kup’s round chubby face, he was content. Life carried on on that sandy spot on the beach. 

            That was until one day, Kup was acting differently.

            Kup was always up the earliest, out hunting for fish for the pups to eat for breakfast when Ratchet finally got up. Kup was usually outside stacking the fish in a neat pile for Ratchet to take in and cut up. When Kup would see Ratchet come out the screen door, his wide tail would flat in delight and he would smile good morning to the doctor. Together they would carry the fish inside, except today, Kup was only just dragging himself out of the ocean. A single, but fat fish in his mouth that he dropped on the sand and panted. He didn’t notice Ratchet on the porch right away, but when he did, he didn’t flat his tail or smile. Instead, he just picked up the fish in one hand and slowly scooted himself up towards the house. He grunted at Ratchet when he slid by him into the house. From there he scooted into the kitchen where all of the pups normally gathered for breakfast. Instantly he was swarmed by them, hungry peeps and little hands grabbing up at the fish Kup had. He set it down and watched them with sunken eyes as they all started biting into it, tugging each other back and forth growling. He waited to make sure they all got a fair chunk of the fish before turning and heading to the living room. There, he curled up on the small carpet and rested his head down on his arms, eyes closing. 

            Ratchet watched closely as he stood on the threshold of the screen door. He figured Kup was just upset at his single catch today, but the next several days were the same. Kup only managed to bring one of two fish back for the pups instead of one for each of them like he usually did. Ratchet noticed he seemed distant, shrugging off Ratchet’s hand when he touched his shoulder and asked him if he was alright and just nodding. There were even times Ratchet noticed Kup flair his gills and let out a cranky hiss at being touched. Any attempt to ask the mer what was wrong was just met with silence and a shake of Kup’s head. 

            It wasn’t until the 4th day of Kup’s mood change that Ratchet noticed something different about the larger mer. He seemed even larger than usual. His lower belly seemed slightly distended, and Ratchet noticed Kup struggling to drag himself along the beach because of it. More often than not, Kup preferred to lay somewhere and stay there all day.

            At first, Ratchet thought nothing of it, knowing after a large fish meal it wasn’t uncommon for Kup and the pups to have bloated bellies, but Kup’s remained all day and night into the next morning. Kup had no desire to go on his evening walk with Ratchet like they usually did every day. Instead, the mer remained laying wherever he had chosen for the day, and when Ratchet tried to rouse him, Kup would roll over and show his back. 

            Six days into Kup’s distancing, Ratchet noticed a flushed pink tinge of color to the mers normally dark green cheeks. His fins sagged and he seemed to pant even at the smallest exertion of energy. Not to mention his swollen belly was now much more noticeable. His interactions with the pups were suddenly cut in half as he ignored them when they tugged on his fins to play. He just didn’t have the energy it seemed.

            “Kup?” Ratchet’s voice was soft when he approached the mer slouched in the kitchen. “Are you alright? You’ve seemed off.” 

            “Fine.” Was Kup’s stone statue response, his eyes not looking up to meet Ratchet’s.

            Ratchet had begun to worry, except when he tried to examine Kup he was once again met with sharp growls and glinting fangs. Jerking away from Ratchet’s healing hands, he would snort and scoot someplace else to be left alone. A little hurt, Ratchet let Kup go. They had lived together close enough that Kup would let Ratchet know if something was wrong, right?

            It was just before sundown when Ratchet heard the screen door open and flap closed. Curious, he wandered over to see if it was the pups, but instead, he saw Kup scooting down along the far left of the beach. He was slow to move, but after a few minutes, Ratchet couldn’t see him anymore. 

            Rubbing his chin in thought, Ratchet perused his lips and turned around to see all the pups sitting by his feet. They peeped softly up at him, Drift even tugging at his pant leg. They were hungry, and Kup didn’t bring fish today but it was alright, Ratchet had plenty in the freezer for them. 

            Turning back to look out to where Kup had vanished, Ratchet signed and turned back to the pups. 

***

The following night, Kup once again vanishes when he thinks Ratchet doesn't notice. He’s gone for almost two hours before Ratchet hears the screen door open and flap closed again. Then came the sound of the sofa springs creaking and the soft excited peeps of one of the pups.

            Leaning into the living room from the kitchen, Ratchet’s eyebrows raise as he sees Kup on his back on the sofa. Rodimus is curled up in a perfect ball on his chest and Kup’s hand rests lazily on his back. The pink flush from his cheeks is gone and he seems drastically thinner now. It was obvious something has been happening that Ratchet wasn’t aware of. 

            Scratching at his gray and red beard, Ratchet grit his teeth and sighed. Slowly, and as quietly as he could, he crept into the living room and the main hallway. From there he slipped his shoes on and crept out the front door. Closing it slowly so it doesn’t wake Kup or the pups, Ratchet stepped down the front steps and onto the sand. 

            It took Ratchet a good couple of seconds to find Kup’s drag marks in the sand. Once pinpointed on them, he followed them down the beach. He walked for a solid ten minutes until the beach house was out of sight. Upon coming to a slightly open area concealed by large rocks, Ratchet pauses. 

            Squinting, he notices spots on the sand that seem disturbed. Some look newer, some older, but one, in particular, was covered with fresh wet sand.  

            Walking over to the sand and kneeling, Ratchet began to brush the sand away. It only took him a few swipes before he was taken aback at what he saw. 

            Two cantaloupe-sized eggs lay in the hole, cold to the touch. 

            “E-eggs?” Ratchet whispered to himself before turning to another dark spot on the sand. Quickly digging, he found three more eggs, then another spot where one egg was. 

            All cold.

            It suddenly makes sense to Ratchet why Kup had been acting so differently. He was simply in his natural egg cycle of laying. The bloating was from the eggs, the sudden thinness from their absence. Kup’s crankiness is mostly likely from how uncomfortable he felt.

            But why didn’t Kup just tell him? And why was there more than one nest?

            “Stop!” Ratchet whirled around and saw Kup panting behind him. The mer’s fins flapped angrily and he dragged himself over to the doctor rather quickly than he had in the last few days. 

            The pace was raging, and before Ratchet could even react, Kup raised two fists and brought them down hard.  Slamming the two eggs Ratchet had dug up, they splatter to pieces. 

            “Kup! Stop!” Ratchet yelped as Kup brought his fists up and down again and again and again. Smashing the eggs to a pulp, he whirled around to the second dug-up nest. “Stop!” Struggling to stand on those creaky knees, Ratchet is too late as the second nest is bashed. On the first nest, he managed to catch Kup’s raised fist and grip it tight.

            “Why are you doing this?!” A few strands of Ratchet’s long hair draped over his eyes as he panted, winded from all the sudden movements. 

            “None!” Kup hissed. “None! None!” His tail whipped around and smashed the egg. “None!” His voice cracked and his eyes welled with globby tears. “None…” He huffed, out of breath. “Can’t have none.” He sagged and covered his face with a webbed hand as he silently sobbed. 

He’s infertile.

            It suddenly made so much sense as the light turned on over Ratchet’s head. Kup was infertile. Not a single one of those pups belonged to him biologically, and how they came into Kup’s care was still a mystery, but it made sense now. The lack of matching anatomy and color patterns now all was as clear as day to the doctor.

            “I’m sorry.” Ratchet’s voice was soft as he placed a gentle hand on the mer’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry Kup.” Gently tugging the mer to turn and look at him, Ratchet cupped the mers cheek with his free hand. Using his thumb, he brushed away a tear. “I’m so sorry.” He said again as Kup leaned into his palm. His flat nostrils flared and he pressed his face into Ratchet’s chest and sobbed. 

            Holding Kup close, Ratchet let the mer sob.

****

It took a good half an hour for Kup to finally calm down enough to push away from Ratchet’s chest. He used the back of his hand to wipe his face and sighed. With a shaky breath, he began to tell Ratchet about the pups,  his  pups. He explained that Rodimus was the first one he found, alone in the ocean. It wasn’t too long after Kup had discovered for himself that he was infertile. Vulnerable and alone, he took Rodimus in as his own, and from there it took off. 

            Together, side by side, they walked and scooted back down the beach towards the beach house, Kup explaining each first encounter with each pup. Ratchet only listened, now and again placing his hand on Kup’s shoulder to reassure him that he understood and cared. 

            Pausing outside of the beach house, Kup looked up at Ratchet. 

            “I was worried I wouldn’t be good enough for them.” He frowned, looking at the house. “Without my own… I don’t know anything.” As Kup spoke with Ratchet, the screen door flapped open and all the pups came spilling out of the house. 

Sliding down the stairs, they crowded around Kup and peeped at him in delight. Once done greeting him, they scurried off and began to play. 

Together, Ratchet and Kup watched them. After a moment, Ratchet glanced down and caught Kup smiling.

            “You don’t have to worry.” Squeezing Kup’s shoulder, Ratchet nodded, “They love you.”

I love you.

            It was the truth. Kup may have felt like he wasn’t doing a good job, but he was truly doing his best. 

            “They are lucky to have you,” Ratchet cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, “and so am I.” He didn’t look down at Kup when he felt the mer suddenly look up at him. He felt a blush spread across his cheeks when he could see Kup’s fins flapping in delight in the corner of his vision. 

            Together they sat side by side, just watching the pups as the sun sank below the horizon.