Archive of Our Own

The sun was low over the horizon, illuminating the shoreline in a warm orange glow. The gentle lapping of the waves against the sand was the only sound, casting a peace over the barely inhabited area that was nestled at the edge of a vast forest.

A small house stood near the edge of the woods, far from the bustling town centre of the nearby port. Its frame was sturdy, the colours of the wood and the trim warm and welcoming, and its single inhabitant continued to weave in and out of the house carrying bundles of wood to be stacked near the fireplace inside.

At least, that’s what she thought the man was doing.

Samira was huddled behind a large rock a short way from the shoreline, her curious eyes following the man with her chin resting on her folded arm, the water beneath her lapping at her chest. She watched the figure approach the wooden stump, lifting that heavy utensil and bringing it down on the wood over and over again. The wind gently tousled her dark, unruly curls over her shoulder, and she sighed as she watched him wipe his sweaty brow with the back of his sleeve. Her fingertips ran over her own skin, remembering the feeling of those arms beneath her own fingertips, only a few days ago.

A shiver ran down her spine as a chill swept over the water with the slowly setting sun, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away from her perch. She was enchanted watching him slowly move around his space, so much so she did not notice the small wave that threw her off her comfortable lounge against the rock. She shrieked, clambering to find a hold again, and realising she had made a fairly audible sound, she sank lower to hide her body from sight.

After a moment, she peeked her eyes around, noticing the man looking towards the sea where she was hiding, as if double guessing his own hearing, and for a brief moment she almost hoped to get caught by the object of her observation. Would she ever have the courage to reveal herself to him?

She wouldn’t, she couldn’t.

Because beneath the water, the long, scaly continuation of her lithe body swayed gently with the flow of the current; a slender tail of green iridescent scales that ended in a spiny fin.

And he was a human. Humans didn’t venture into the water unless they were travelling or hunting. At least, that’s what she thought, until a few days ago when he’d fallen off his ship.

Samira loved nights like this, when the sky above was wild and treacherous, but the world below was calm, only disturbed by the rippling of the moonlight as it peered through the water. She was laying against the rock in her cove, gazing up at the hole in the coral formation above her that was her skylight to the world, watching the streams of light peek through the small gap. But it was interrupted by a giant shadow of a large object on the surface, breaking her peaceful view of the light echoing to the depths below.

She frowned, this weather would be too unruly for any human ships to pass through, surely. Curiosity got the better of her and she swam up towards the surface, through the coral and giving the ship a large berth she poked her head up above the waves to take a look.

She blinked away the rain that suddenly battered her face, wading against the rough waves and narrowed into the large ship lumbering in front of her. It immediately took her back to see the mast snapped in half, with the sails on fire.

She could hear men shouting on board and swam closer, hiding behind a barrel as it bobbed away from the burning ship. She wiped her hair away from her eyes as she watched the crew carefully lowering the smaller row boat into the water, with a few of them climbing down the ladder to escape the slowly sinking ship as it was tossed in the waves. A few had also begun jumping off the edge of the ship, choosing to risk the water below than risk being hit by falling debris.

The smaller boat landed with a splash into the water, and she watched the men clamber inside, shouting for the rest of them above to make their way down quickly. She moved closer to see if all the men were there, and saw two huddled figures up above hobble their way to the edge, one of them slumped over the other’s shoulder as he held a hand to his side, wincing in pain.

“Come on Whitaker, stay with me! I need you to hold onto that tourniquet!” The other man shouted as he leant the younger man against the rail, grabbing the loop of rope that hung on his shoulder and wrapping it around the smaller man beside him into a harness of sorts.

The older man, flicking rain off of his face, leant over the rail to yell through the echoing sounds of thunder and the creaking of the wood below him that was starting to sink and snap, “Robbie, I’m dropping him now!”

He grabbed the young man who was slowly looking paler by the second and sat him on the edge of the gap in the rail, and planting his feet either side, started to grunt as he pushed the man he called Whitaker over the edge.

Samira gasped watching the injured man swing in the air as he was lowered, the crew below reaching up with outstretched arms to grab the boy out of mid-air. She waded closer as she took a closer look at the man above, his white shirt slick against his wet skin and she saw his arms straining with the exertion of holding the weight of a full-grown man via a rope.

Suddenly they were rocked by an incoming wave that bashed into the side of the ship, tilting the precious balancing act that held the fate of the two men. Luckily, the injured man was close enough to the crew below that when the rope went slack, the boy was caught by the burly crew.

But the man above didn’t have such luck.

She watched his hands slip from the stronghold he had on the rope as his body flew to the opposite side of the ship, thrown roughly against the metal on the opposite railing. His head hit the ledge hard, and she inhaled watching him topple over into the dark waters on the opposite side.

“Jack, no!” A man from the crew in the boat let out an anguished cry, as they tried to move the boat around the ship towards their lost crewmember. But as luck would have it, the lumbering hull had started to groan, and the crew quickly moved their smaller boat out of the way as the entire ship split in half into a crumbling pile of wooden flames.

Steeling herself, she ducked beneath the water, moving swiftly as she dodged dropping parts of the ship as it sank into the water, her eyes darting around to try and spot the no doubt unconscious figure. She swivelled, spotting what looked like a flash of white, and sped towards the object that was currently sinking beneath the waves. Her nimble hands reached out to hoist the heavy figure up as she pushed up towards the surface away from the disintegrating boat.

She broke the surface with a gasp, glancing around to make sure they were safe, lifting the water-logged man above the waves so he could breathe. She turned him onto his back as she waded the water for them, cradling him to her chest as she scanned his face and chest for any sign of movement. She ran her hands along his body to find his rib cage, coming to rest on his chest and giving it a shove to try and help get the water out of his lungs.

After a few pushes, he spat out a fountain of water, and spluttered some deep gulps as he desperately tried to take in oxygen. She thought for a second he might gain consciousness and find a woman cradling him amongst the crashing waves, but she watched his eyes roll back into his head as it lulled against her shoulder.

Her hand slid up to rest on the side of his neck, checking that the skin was pulsing against her cool fingertips and she took a relieved breath out, keeping his head afloat amongst the thrashing waves.

But now she was in a predicament, because to her knowledge she was miles from the shoreline, and there was no way she would be able to swim him to his crew without them spotting her.

It seems the only option she had as she watched the rotted hull sink below the surface amongst the incessant waves of the storm, was to swim him to safety herself.

So that is what she did.

She cradled him to her chest as she swam smoothly through the waves, dodging the peaks and troughs that were thrown around by the weather, swimming through the night as she periodically stopped along the way to check the man had a pulse and was breathing.

The dawn was breaking as they approached a quiet beach just outside the local town, a spot she curiously observed fishermen who would stand out on the waters edge in the early hours of the morning, hoarding the precious time she had when she would sneak away from her sisters. Using all her strength, she pulled him up onto the sand as she wiggled her body to heave him away from the waves.

She sighed from the effort as she gently laid him down on his back, her fingers slowly tapping up to his chest. She leant her head down to rest against his chest, feeling the pulse beneath her cheek and blew out a breath in relief. She pulled back from him, still worried that the man had not made it and she gave him a small shake until he began to cough again, his head turning towards the side to expel the last of the water from his lungs.

She took note of the weeping cut on his forehead, frowning at the pain it must be causing him. She lifted a hesitant hand to the side of his head as she turned him to face upwards and got her first good look at the man laying beneath her.

He was a little older than the men she often saw sailing on the human ships, his face worn due to years of sun and sea travel, but he looked younger when his face was at peace in his unconsciousness. Her fingertips danced across the gentle creases around his eyes, his dimpled cheeks and unruly stubble along his jaw. She had never touched a man, let alone any human before, and she relished in the feeling of how his skin was so different from her own, rough against the smooth pads of her fingertips. Her hand dropped to find his own hand against his hip, and she noticed his own hands were rough with callouses and cuts from years of physical labour and more recently, clenching at the rope on the ship, and she ran a gentle thumb across the rough lines of his palm. She thought to herself that she could spend all day mapping this man’s skin; his lines and scars being receipts of a life well lived above the ocean. In contrast however, his hair was much like her own, curls of silver that were tousled by the salty sea water and which flopped through her fingers as she weaved tentatively through them.

And as if reassuring a child, she found herself softly singing a childhood lullaby to the injured man, stroking his hair and enjoying this rare moment of peace, wondering if this is what humans wanted. To care for another and have someone care for them.

“Jack.” She whispered, letting the foreign word form on her tongue.

She had always thought, and had been told so, that humans were vicious creatures wrecked with malice and greed, but the man lying beneath her contradicted everything she’d ever known about mankind. He had heroically saved the life of his injured crewmember, sacrificing his own safety to help him first and she admired his courage to act so selflessly.

She hadn’t seemed to notice that as she stroked his hair and sang softly, his hooded eyes had slowly slid open a bit, gazing up at the blurry figure above him with the voice of an angel. Still not yet conscious, his heavy hand moved slowly until his fingertips brushed the wrist braced gently on his chest, almost as if to check this wasn’t a dream. Had this vision just said his name?

His eyes were doing their best to focus on the figure above him, her face obscured by the shadow of curls blocking out the rising sun behind her. He got distracted by the gentle touch of her fingers massaging his scalp, wondering when the last time someone had so tenderly cradled him, and when he’d ever heard such angelic singing.

A sudden noise from her right had her pull back from him, and she saw a crew of villagers making their way up the beach towards them with torches in hand, no doubt a manhunt had taken place to search for the missing crew.

Knowing they had run out of time, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss to his temple, mapping his face to her memory one last time before pushing off the sand and slipping into the water.

She kept her distance as she watched the men approach Jack, and after she knew he’d be taken care of, she let herself relish in their small shared moment of peace, knowing that she’d most likely never see him again. Or at least, he’d never see her again.

She would be forever haunted by the man on the beach, knowing a small piece of her heart was now left on the surface world. If her sisters knew that she felt for a human, they would belittle and bully her even more than they already did. But maybe, this little piece of the world was just for her.

And yet here she was, returning day after day to spy on the man who haunted her. It hadn’t taken her long to realise he lived close to where she’d dragged him to, and had followed him as the villagers dragged him into town to be taken care of overnight, before making his way towards his home after an overnight stay. She was almost relieved to see he lived further away from the rest of the humans, so she could spy on him in peace. Her chest ached seeing him wrap himself in a blanket, perching himself on his front porch chair and wistfully staring out into the sea almost in confusion. A small part of her wondered if he remembered her. If he’d really seen her.

Because she was seeing him now. He, Jack, lived a life of relative solitude. Besides the odd visit from the other older gentleman she’d seen on the boat, of whom Jack called Robbie, he had no visitors.

He was a man of routine: he would wake with the sun and complete some chores, before heading into town, returning to his home in the late afternoon where he could prepare a meal, sit on his porch to watch the sun set on the horizon before taking himself to rest.

He had also lost his leg some time ago, and she looked at him curiously as he winced in pain removing his brace from his lower calf. Her fingers mirrored his own, tracing where her leg would be as he tried to relieve the painful muscle, and Samira wondered if her legs would hurt, if she tried to walk. If she had legs.

And even now, though Jack had no idea she was there, sometimes he would stand at the water's edge, pacing the length of beach where he’d been found washed up, gazing into the depths of the sea as if searching for something. How she longed to just swim up to him and look straight back at him. Would he like her as she was? Would he be scared of her?

She wondered if maybe they were mirrors of each other; her being an outcast of the world below longing for the above, and Jack being a recluse in the world above, longing for something that she didn’t know what. But oh, she would give anything to know.

-----

Just as Samira was haunted by the human man that she had saved, Jack too was haunted by the singing angel on the beach.

After his ship had capsized on the journey home during a thunderstorm, he couldn’t explain to the rest of his crew how he’d gone from being thrown into the dark depths of the storm to being found nestled amongst the sand on a beach. He could still picture the look on Robbie’s face when he stormed into the local hospital where Jack worked to see his friend alive, as if he’d returned from the dead. In a way he had, sort of.

I mean, how the hell was he supposed to say that the only explanation or memory he had was being saved by an angel with the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard? That he still wondered if he’d dreamt up the gentle brush of dark curls against his chest, the feel of the smooth, bronze skin beneath his fingers and against his scalp, and the most beautiful smile he’d even seen crinkling down at him fondly.

He couldn’t explain his unlikely survival, but as the days slowly started to fade into each other after he returned to the mainland, he found himself gravitating towards the water’s edge as if something were just beyond it that might have the answers. It was as if being in the place he was found, he could almost feel the ghost of fingertips on his skin, and he often found himself tracing their invisible path across his cheek, as if to be closer to a feeling he didn’t know he longed for.

He also couldn’t shake the incessant feeling that he was being watched. 

He couldn’t describe it, but somehow it wasn’t predatory. He’d done laps of his house just to check, surveying the dark woods and setting traps, as well as glancing through his windows at night to see nothing but the quiet shore he was accustomed to for most of his life. After a while, he simply had to shrug off this feeling he had, he was being ridiculous.

A few days later after he’d completed his shift at the hospital, he stopped by the grocer on the main road to pick up some food for the week ahead. It was the Mayor’s birthday and the entire main street was preparing for the celebrations that were to be had that weekend, but Jack preferred to be a recluse during these events, to hide away from the erratic fireworks that were set off incessantly at all hours of the day.

He brought up his basket of baked goods, fruit, vegetables, grains and sauces to the front desk where the clerk was leafing through a pamphlet with a bored expression on her face.

“Good afternoon, Ellis.” He murmured as he placed the basket onto the desk, watching her huff as she turned to him, her behaviour melodramatic as ever.

“Abbot,” She huffed, slowly picking the items out one by one to note them down for his receipt, “I hear you nearly got lost at sea.”

Jack shrugged, “Seems like the sea didn’t want me.”

Ellis gave him a look, “Well don’t look at me, I certainly don’t want you either.”

He held back a reserved smile, knowing the store owner truly did have a soft spot for him after he’d repaired her dislocated shoulder a few years back. But the woman was not into the likes of men, and was very open in telling him so. Not that it was public knowledge, but he got the distinct feeling that Ellis didn’t confide with just anyone.

Maybe she was his friend? Ellis would certainly never admit that.

“Seems like that sea of yours holds more mysteries than you’d think. The day trip crew came through earlier, guess what they were going on about?”

Jack frowned, tilting his head as a question as he crossed his arms in front of him.

Ellis glanced around before leaning forwards, “They said they nearly caught a mermaid.”

Jack blanched, “What?”

“I know right,” Ellis barked, “It’s ridiculous. Those men have been at sea for too long.”

She bagged up his few items and passed them over to him, and he gave her coins in return, frowning at what she said. Mermaids were a sailor’s myth that water-thirsty bastards told on late nights to escape the empty evenings alone at sea, yearning for the tender feeling of a woman’s touch.

“Well, you take care Abbot, I’ll come by after the weekend to drop you some fresh mead when it comes in, yeah?” He waved her off politely, still pondering over her words as he stepped out of the store onto the main street.

His shoes crunched against the gravel beneath his feet as he frowned in thought, slowly approaching the corner of the port where the local pub overlooked the vast harbour. He slung the bag over his shoulder as he limped forward, noting the dull throb at the bottom of his leg that had begun to sneak up towards his knee. He’d have to use that paste McKay had given him last month, hopefully that would help with the ache near his incision.

As he rounded the corner, he dodged the wildly gesturing younger men as their tankards sloshed over, with their arms flung around each other's shoulders.

“-you should’ve seen it, that creature was a beautiful sight! The most stunning thing you’ve ever seen, even prettier than Smith’s wife!” An uproar of laughter broke out and Jack frowned as he dodged them.

“But seriously, what happened?”

“We weren’t too far from home, when we spotted a head in the water. We thought we were seeing a mirage, but we got closer and realised it was a flipping mermaid! Can you imagine?”

No, Jack couldn’t.

“So of course, Shark the bloody bastard gets out the spear and lures the thing closer, and manages to spear it in the arm, And it straight up hissed at him! I think Shark only grazed it, the slippery thing got away.”

Jack rolled his eyes at the slurring man as his friend pushed him back in disbelief, and he stumbled over the cobblestones, “I’m not kidding, mate!”

Jack shook his head, shouldering his bag further over his coat as he followed the main street along the shoreline, following the path further as it narrowed into a barely trekked trail. He was the only one who came out this far, and the further from the town he got, the more he felt his shoulders start to drop in relief. The quiet seemed to seep into his veins, calming down the erratic feeling that had built up throughout the day at the hospital.

The path widened as Jack approached his home, opening into the space where his campfire stood empty underneath the shadowy trees of the mid-afternoon. He winced as the pain shot up through his leg, slowly climbing the few steps and shuffling over the creaky floor boards to his locked door. After some fiddling with the key, the door swung open to reveal his familiar, comfortable space.

Without a word he moved to the kitchen table and laid down his heavy bag to rest, sighing in relief of the weight coming off his leg. He rubbed a nervous hand against his chest, moving through his space in a familiar silence. His corner of the world was as quiet as it usually was, but he couldn’t help but feel on edge for some unknown reason.

This feeling continued to sit in his bones as he prepared a basic stew in the pot on his stove, stirring the ingredients together as his mind once again raced through the events of the past few weeks, as if he might find the answers he so desperately wanted. Was it all a dream?

It wasn’t until after he sat on his porch chair overlooking the shoreline as he usually did, taking in a deep breath of crisp, salty air that he felt that maybe he wouldn’t find the answers he wanted. But maybe for now, he was exactly where he needed to be and that was enough.

And then he heard it. A splash.

He frowned, glancing around as he rose off his chair. Not that splashes weren’t uncommon around here, but on a day like today when the tide was out and terribly still, barely lapping at the stretch of sand in front of his cabin, it was unusual.

Rubbing his aching thigh, he slowly made his way down the steps, following the peculiar noise down the pathway he would take to the furthest point on the inland reef where on his more recluse days he’d go fishing in the early hours of the morning. He carefully dodged the slippery moss along the only-to-him familiar path, and quietly approached whatever was most likely stuck in one of the shallower rock pools. Most likely a large tuna fish.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight in front of him.

As he shuffled around the large rock to peer into the hidden alcove, he pulled up short in shock at the sight of a long, green tail, the elongated feathery fins on the end twitching against the rough coral. He stepped further into the alcove to come face-to-face with the very thing he’d spent all day denying was real.

The…creature? was desperately trying to curl herself up against the rock wall, thrashing in the shallow water of the rock pool, which was already starting to cloud with the blood flowing from a wound. She was twitching in pain, her green tail twisting in agony as she curled in on herself, the mane of wild, dark curls hiding her face from him as she clutched one hand against the coral wall and one hand covering a lump on her shoulder.

“Oh my god.” He exclaimed in shock, and she froze, realising she was no longer alone. She whirled around suddenly to face him, and he was stunned when he finally got a good look at her.

She was easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, her bronze skin covered in droplets of seawater glowing in the warm afternoon sun and her wild, nearly black curls following the sharp movement of her head flowing around her head like a halo. Her doe-like eyes gazed up at him, cowering slightly at the view of a human in front of her like a wild animal caught in a trap, her chapped lips parted in shock at the sight of him. Her jerked motion made her gasp in pain, clutching wildly at her chest.

It was then he noticed the long spear head protruding from near her left shoulder.

He snapped quickly into doctor mode, his eyes zeroing in on the spear jutting out just shy of her clavicle, and he moved to step forward to examine it, which led her to jerk back instinctively, hissing in pain.

He froze, his hands slowly coming up to show her they were empty, “Hey, it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her eyes stayed trained onto him even as her chest heaved at the adrenaline running through her, and he frowned, still standing as his mind raced, tilting his head, “Can you understand me?”

She seemed to pause for a moment, before slowly nodding her head.

He blew out a breath, thank god, “I’m a doctor-” She looked at him dumbly, so he changed his approach, “I want to help you. Ok?”

She looked him up and down cautiously, before once again giving him a stiff nod. Taking that as an invitation, he slowly sloshed through the shallow water, not taking any notice of the seawater seeping through his pants as he knelt down by her side. Her piercing eyes followed his every move as his hands slowly came up to her own that was hiding the wound from sight, gently guiding it down so he could see the extent of her injuries. The spearhead had brutally punctured her body, as its intent when trying to catch fish, but to her human-like skin of her upper body, it tore through layers of skin and muscle leaving her writhing in agony.

He sighed as he looked it over, his fingertips whispering across the skin around the metal, murmuring softly, “I’m so sorry.”

She was still for a moment, her dark eyes trained onto his face as it leant in close, before whispering quietly back, “It was not you.”

His head snapped up to meet her own, and he watched the defensive resolve fall away, her eyes looking back at him with such sorrow, her eyes watering as she kept his gaze.

He glanced down at her shoulder, knowing he would have to either move her very soon or go get supplies, and wondered how do you get a mythical creature who has just been speared down by his fellow man to trust that you’ll take care of them?

“Do you have a name?” He murmured, not breaking eye contact.

She searched his face, “Samira.”

“Samira,” He repeated back, almost in awe before realising he must look like an idiot, “Sorry, I’m-”

“-Jack.” She whispered.

He reeled back. He didn’t think he could get more shocked today, firstly finding out mermaids were real, and secondly that the first mermaid he met knew his-

And then it all clicked.

The ship, the water. Him ending up somehow on a beach miles away from where the ship wrecked. A faint vision of a woman with tousled curls nursing him back to land of the living with her feather-like touch and melodic singing. 

She watched the recognition dawn over his face, and her heart almost felt like it was breaking. That he finally saw her, all of her for the first time and what could be the last.

His jaw dropped open slightly as he looked at her, dumbstruck, “It’s you.”

She gave him a pained smile, he thinks he could get drunk off of seeing her smile, “It is me.”

“The ship, the beach. You saved my life.” He was floundering, “Why?”

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes running over the confusion in his face, “Because you were kind.”

He didn’t know how to voice this raw feeling, and he found his hands shaking as his hand came up as if to caress her face, but paused mere centimetres away. She took a shuddered breath in, anticipating his touch, and the two froze as if held in a stalemate. 

But now would not be the time for that.

He blew out a breath, “Can you trust me?”

She nodded her head slowly, her eyes surveying every minute movement, as if savouring something forbidden.

“You saved my life, now it’s time I saved yours.”

It took some maneuvering, he tore a strip from his linen shirt to wrap the metal to her shoulder and compress the wound. He quietly apologised at her small moan, wrapping the oversized shirt around her shoulders, before cradling her to his chest.

The two didn’t speak as he walked slowly and carefully through the rockpools, her head resting on his shoulder. He carried her like she was precious cargo, trying not to jostle her too much with his jarring limp. Jack was sure his leg still ached as it had all afternoon, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins seemed to mask any pain he might’ve felt.

Her eyes felt heavy as they began to walk, and she let herself relish in the feeling of his warm chest against her shoulder. She wasn’t accustomed to being warm; in the depths of the ocean she’d become used to the icy chill, only getting slices of sunshine when she’d bake on the rocks with her sister in secluded locations humans didn’t have access to. She closed her eyes as she fully leant into him, a part of her thinking that if she were to die today, at least she had the chance to be with him one more time.

He could feel her slump against him, and held back a groan as he clambered up his porch steps, using his shoulder to push his heavy front door open. He staggered his way over to his tattered couch, bracing himself as he gently laid her down onto the perch of soft cushions, and she moaned as his arms slipped out from underneath her.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” He slid a slightly shaking hand against the side of her head, pressing his hand gently on her shoulder to calm her down, before he stood up quickly and moved through his house.

Where was his bloody medical kit? He cursed to himself as he stormed into his back room, swinging open every cupboard door, before spotting the trunk near the edge of the room and moved quickly, unlatching the lock and lifting the heavy lid. He grabbed the familiar leather satchel, letting the lid slam shut as he quickly moved back into his living room.

He grabbed a pillow and blanket off the arm rest, laying the pillow down onto the hardwood floors next to her to protect his knees before flaying the blanket out so it covered her trembling body.

He talked her through every step as he prepared her wound, shushing her cries as he yanked out the spearhead head, apologising to her as he cleaned out the wound. She turned her head into his arm, hissing into his skin as he got the needle and thread out to sew her damaged skin back together. He could feel her shaking against him as she clutched at his undershirt, and he tried to be as quick as he could, his hands uncharacteristically trembling as he nimbly navigated the needle.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He soothed her as she sobbed against him. He continued to whisper comforting words to her as her cries started to settle, tying a swift knot at the end of his stitches, grabbing his small knife to cut off the remaining thread from near the wound. Her sobs transformed into sniffles as he used antiseptic to clean the closed skin, before slathering it with ointment and patching it tightly.

By the time he’d wrapped her wound, she had lost consciousness, her head turned towards him in what looked to be a peaceful slumber. He blew out a heavy breath, feeling the adrenaline starting to fade from his body as he sat back on his heel, his eyes never leaving the vision in front of him.

He looked down at his hands covered in her dried blood, and quickly made work of disposing of all the bloody gauze and wipes he’d used, before scrubbing at his hands viciously until they turned pink from being so raw. If his hands were shaking, he tried not to notice it as he hastily dried them on a towel.

Jack’s body started to become heavy as he limped back towards her, kneeling down next to her slumped body and adjusted the heavy knitted blanket to put up higher on her chest.

He lifted his hand slowly, letting it come to rest against the side of her face. A dried track of a tear stained her elegant cheekbone, and he used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away the salt from her skin, feeling the smoothness of the face he was desperately committing to memory.

His face never left hers as he shuffled his body around until both of his legs, or what was left of them, stretched out in front of him. He moved his hand to clasp her own as he leant his head against her side, his body sagging into the side of the couch as exhaustion seemed to overcome him.

But even as he started to fade into his own slumber, his fingers strayed to her pulsepoint on her wrist, wanting to hold onto his angel for as long as he could. He needed to know she’d be ok.

—

Samira didn’t realise where she was straight away. 

Her entire body felt heavy as she groaned to consciousness, her very bones feeling as if they were made of lead. It wasn’t a sensation she had ever felt before, even when she’d ventured near the very bottom of the ocean where everything was compressed.

Now everything was heavy. And dry?

Her eyes fluttered open, unaccustomed to the light around her and she blinked hesitantly, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar view above her.

It was wood.

Her eyes shot open in realisation, darting around her. The small hut she had spent hour after hour longingly looking at was currently housing her, and suddenly she was aware of every single unfamiliar feeling surrounding her.

The pillowy cushion beneath her back, softer than any moss. The cosy feeling of a woven blanket covering her body, her hand tentatively fingering the soft weaves that she’d dreamt about being wrapped in. The dull ache in her left shoulder being the sharp reminder of yesterday’s events, and she wondered how long it would take for her body to heal. Her body felt weighed down, no doubt by the gravity of the surface world, and she wondered whether her muscles would be able to cope without the pressure of water around her. 

But it was the warmth at her wrist that had her rolling her head to glance down at, only to find the very object of her obsession resting quietly beside her.

His head rested against her hip bone, his eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion as he slumped over the edge of the couch. His arm was propped up beside her body, his fingers clutching at the slender point of her wrist, as if even whilst asleep he wanted to make sure she was real. That she was ok.

She sighed softly as she looked down at him, taking a moment to look at his tired face, a slight frown between his brow that she ached to ease the tension out of. Instead, she gently extracted her hand from his loose grip, her fingers lifting slowly to wipe the errant curls from falling into his face.

He inhaled sharply through his nose at the unfamiliar sensation, his head instinctively leaning into her fingertips as she weaved her fingers through his soft curls. With his eyes still closed, he lifted his hand that once rested on her wrist to follow her arm up to where her palm rested near his temple, threading it to rest on top of her own.

His eyes blinked open to slowly look up at her, and a small smile grew in response to see him tiredly look back at her. The man she had watched only from afar, gazing up at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Looking straight back at her, seeing her.

“So it wasn’t a dream.” He croaked out.

She drew a small circle on his scalp with her index fingertip, “You are not dreaming.”

He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand as they sat in a comfortable silence, relishing in the weight of their skin touching each other.

“Why did you come back?” He whispered.

She frowned slightly at his question, so he continued, “It wasn’t safe for you here, surely you knew that.”

She peered back at him sadly, whispering “I thought you might need me. I was scared something might happen to you and I would not have been there.” 

“But you got hurt.” He murmured.

“I wanted to check you weren’t on the boat, but they spotted me. I didn’t get away quick enough and they-” She trailed off as her hand came up to feel the bandage on her shoulder.

He took the hand down from his head and gently ran his thumb tenderly over her palm, and she took a small breath in at the intimate sensation.

“I could not think after that, I was in so much pain. I tried to swim away, to swim to my sisters, but all I could think about was you.”

His eyes widened in realisation, “You were trying to get to the beach?”

She nodded slowly, “But the tide was too far out. I got stuck in the pools.”

His heart broke, thinking about her bleeding out over the rocks as she tried to reach him.

Her throat felt tight but she continued, “I thought that if I were not to make it, I just hoped I could see you one last time.”

A strangled sound escaped him and he couldn’t help his forehead leaning down to press into her arm, thinking about how close he’d gotten to losing her. This wonderful being who had saved his life, who’d sung to him and nursed him gently on the beach, with a heart too big for the ocean.

They sat in silence as they processed the events of the last day, and as she watched him take a shuddered breath against her skin, she felt an unfamiliar wetness against her cheek.

She blinked in confusion, her other hand coming up to touch her wet cheeks and her eyes, “What is happening to me?”

He looked up at her confusion and realised that if she had spent her life in the ocean, the idea of crying tears would be incredibly foreign to her.

“That’s a tear, it’s normal. It happens when you’re sad.” 

She looked at him in confusion, “I’m leaking water out of my face?”

He chuckled, feeling a tear of his own creeping down his cheek, “I’ll explain later.”

She tried to lift her body to sit up, but gravity was a lot harder to fight than she thought, and he scrambled to help her sit up further on the couch.

It was only as she shuffled backwards that she noticed the tail that normally extended from her hips was not there.

She frowned down at the blanket covering her body, actively willing her tail to flick up, but instead a boney leg jerked out from under the blanket.

She exclaimed in shock, and Jack’s head swivelled to look down at her lower body, and the two of them watched a shaky foot extend from under the blanket, her new toes wiggling hesitantly in the air.

“I have legs!” She shuffled up as her newfound limbs jerked, wincing as she forgot about her injury in all the excitement.

Jack was at a loss for words, magical transformations weren’t exactly a part of his medical training. He merely looked up at the pure elation on her face as she wiggled her toes, grabbing her hand and placing an affectionate kiss onto the back of it.

—

It was a few days later that the two of them sat together on his porch chair, the woven blanket strewn over their laps as they looked out over the ocean.

It had taken Samira some time to get used to her new limbs, very much feeling like a fish out of water as Jack leant her his crutches as she built the strength in her muscles to withstand her bodyweight. But whilst her body caught up, her mind raced far ahead.

She was the most curious person he had ever met, asking him all about how he’d healed her, how he cooked his food, what is a fire and how it did it burn. The tinkling of her laughter made his soul feel lighter than it had in years, and he relished in making her smile at every opportunity that he could.

Samira had also struggled to explain her tail transformation, until one evening her sisters had approached the pair as they sat in the sand. Tears had fallen down her face as they had explained the curse: any mermaid who stayed out of the ocean for more than a day would transform into a human forever. Samira didn’t know why she cried so much when she watched her sisters slide back into the water, to what used to be her home, but knowing she couldn’t go back to her old life terrified her. Jack had sat beside her silently as he ran a soothing hand in circles on her back, only ushering her inside once the sun had fully set and the cool evening air settled around them.

He was quiet as he looked over at her, observing her contemplative profile as she looked out over the ocean, and finally asked what he’d been thinking about for days, “I’m sorry.”

His gravelly voice broke her out of her revelry, “For what?”

He tried to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat, “I’m sorry for taking away your choice. I’m sorry you can’t go home because of me.”

Realisation dawned over her, and she slid her cool hands over to grab one of his own, “Oh no, no please don’t blame yourself. Jack,” She lifted one of her hands to cup his face tenderly, “You saved my life, I will always be in your debt for that.”

He took a shuddered breath, and she continued, “Besides, the ocean may have been the only place I knew, but it wasn’t my home. It never felt like I truly belonged there.”

“I know the feeling.” He murmured, and she turned her piercing gaze to his own, feeling a kinship between their two lost souls.

She shrugged, looking lost, “I don’t know what I’ll do now, though.”

“You can stay with me, however long you want.” He blurted out.

Her face lit up, “Really?”

“Yes really,” He chuckled, “These past few days, I haven’t felt this alive in a very long time, and I know it’s because of you.”

She blushed, and by god he wanted the image of her rosy cheeks imprinted on his mind forever, “You’d be ok with me staying?”

“Samira,” Oh her heart did funny things when he said her name, “I would give you the world if I could, but maybe we can settle for our little corner of it. Explore it together.”

She bit her lip, finally speaking what had been on her mind since she’d seen him, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want someone more, normal?”

He looked at her fondly, her unruly black curls billowing in the light breeze as she looked at him with such a sincerity that it made his heart ache. He leant over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, looking straight into her eyes with his own.

Looking at her, he could almost see their future that lay ahead of them. He’d bring her up to speed with the customs of the human world, answering every single question and curiosity she had. She’d tell him about the ocean and the creatures living in it, about what it was like to traverse an entire part of the world he’d never see. They go exploring together; visit new cities, traverse mountains, meet new people. He’d stoke her curiosity about the human body, dragging her to work with him in the hospital, teaching her side-by-side everyday about the human body and how they can use their skills to help others. She’d no doubt pull him out of his recluse lifestyle, making friends with every single person in town who’d no doubt also fall in love with the beautiful and kind woman she was becoming. He’d drag her to meet Ellis, who’d immediately tell him Samira was way too good for him, of which he’d agree wholeheartedly. But it would all be worth it seeing Samira merely blush and hide her face into his arm. He could see their quiet nights together: cooking, walking, reading, falling asleep together on his ratty couch in the afternoon sun. It seemed like heaven to him.

He could even see, if he let his heart dream a little, Samira walking along the path to their house, a small bundle strapped against her chest as she rocked the cooing baby gently back to sleep, looking up at him fondly.

He didn’t recognise this feeling, how it felt to feel complete for the first time in his life. As if Samira was the last puzzle piece he’d been waiting for after staring out over the ocean all those years, wondering what his life was all about.

His thumb tenderly ran over her cheek and he gave her a small smile, “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

Her heart so full it might burst, she tentatively leaned into him, a hand pressed over his heart as her lips met his own for the first time. He gasped a little at her gentle touch, before lifting his hands to cradle her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Because she was now his whole world. And he’d spend the rest of his life thinking how lucky he was to be living in it.