Chapter Text
Every evening, the monster comes and sings parentsong to Jason, and every evening Jason flares his fins and splays his claws and shouts, “Go away already, you big boob!”
Instead, the monster lingers. It lays itself on the cool gray sand outside of Jason’s den and props its face on its hand to look in on him. It is so large that the bulk of its shadow blocks the waning sunshine from Jason’s face, and he hisses irritably at it. How dare it come lay in front of his den, in his territory, and scare away all of his fish. Sure, maybe this prime denning spot once belonged to the monster—but not anymore. The monster has way more territory than it needs, so Jason has decided to claim this corner for himself and his pod. They need it more, anyway, and it’s not like the monster can even fit under the rocky outcropping that makes up Jason’s den.
“Hello, Jason,” the monster says.
Jason squalls in fury and smacks his tail against the sand. “I said go away!”
“I brought you dinner,” says the monster, and lays down an armful of mackerel fresh-killed and still bleeding.
Jason knows better than to accept food from anyone outside of his pod—at least when they can see. He spits out an angry, popping noise of offense. “I can hunt for myself. You don’t need to keep bringing me your shitty leftovers.”
“They aren’t leftovers. I caught them just a few minutes ago for you.” The monster licks blood off of its forearms and its wickedly sharp claws, a gesture Jason is sure is meant to intimidate him. Well, so what? Jason has claws too, and he bets they’re even sharper than the monster’s! “If there’s something else you would prefer, you only have to say.”
“What I would prefer is if you stopped coming into my territory,” Jason huffs.
“I’ve told you I can’t do that.”
Jason growls, twisting around himself in agitation. He keeps his fins stiff and flared, trying to make himself look bigger. Even like this, he’s barely the length of the monster’s forearm. It annoys him to no end. What right does anybody have, getting that big? The monster might as well be a whale. Jason says as much between angry chitters, muttering, “Stupid whale, stupid boob, stupid fishfucker, bet your mom’s a dolphin.”
Refusing to acknowledge Jason’s very clever stream of insults, the monster asks, “How are Dick and Tim?”
“None of your business!” Jason says, whipping around to face the monster head-on again. He digs his claws into the sand and bares his teeth. Let the monster try to get past him to his pod. Jason’ll shred every bit of meat from its hand and gnaw on its big dumb bones.
“Are they well?” the monster persists. “Do they need anything I haven’t brought?”
“They’re fine,” Jason snaps, annoyed by the assumption that his pod needs anything he can’t provide. He’s a great pod leader, thank you very much, and he’s taking the best care of Dick and Tim. He makes sure they get their first choice of fish, and that their nest always has the softest seagrass, and that he brings back pretty pebbles from his patrols for them to play with. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of ‘em by myself.”
“Hn,” says the monster.
Jason makes a garbled angry noise and fluffs his fins again. The monster doesn’t even indulge him by flaring its own fins in return. They stay soft and still against its long tail, ruffled only by the cool ocean currents. Jason can’t make out the shape of its pattern, but he catches glimpses of dark blue and bright yellow in the folds of its fins. He almost wishes it would flare up at him, if only so he could see the lay of those colors. They’re probably ugly and boring, though Jason can’t say much about it when his own fins are still the unadorned black of a pup.
“You don’t believe me,” he says. “Well, fine, fishface. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“I believe that you are trying very hard for them,” the monster says, “but you are also very young. It must be difficult. If there’s any way I can help, please let me know. Alfred will be by in the morning to check on you.”
With that, the monster disperses. It glides away across the sand, though as big as it is it takes a long time to disappear over the horizon. Jason waits a few more seconds after it’s gone, just in case, before darting back into his den. He whisks around the sharp curve that shields the back of the den from the entrance, and immediately butts up against his brothers. They push their faces against his in greeting, squirming around him and sniffing with interest at his shoulders and flanks for any scent of the monster. Jason has been very careful not to let the monster see his podmates or vice versa. The last thing he needs is the monster knowing he has a pair of mer pups with him.
“Did he bring food?” Tim asks eagerly, crawling over Jason’s tail to get to the den entrance.
“I heard him singing again,” Dick says, pressing the side of his tail to Jason’s. “What does he sing?”
“Hatesong,” Jason lies. “He wants us to leave, but I told him he’d have to fight me about it. He ran off like a coward after that. He knows he’s no match for me.”
Dick rolls his eyes and follows Tim out.
“Y’know, if he wanted us to leave,” Tim says, between mouthfuls of mackerel, “I doubt he’d be bringing us dinner every night.”
“You callin’ me a liar, guppy?” Jason demands, ruffling Tim’s hair.
Tim growls playfully and twists around to gnaw on Jason’s hand, but he dislodges easily when Jason shakes him off. He returns to his mackerel with gusto, tiny bones crunching between his teeth. Jason lays down next to him and selects his own fish, tearing off large hunks and swallowing them whole. His gums ache by the time he’s finished, and he swipes his tongue over his canine teeth. They taste of metal.
Once he and his pod have finished eating, Jason gathers up the bones and carries them away from the den. He doesn’t want to attract any predators—though in these shallows the only predator he’s seen has been the monster. Still, it wouldn’t do to get complacent. They’ve only been here a couple of weeks. Who knows what lurks out there and just hasn’t shown itself yet? Unlike his brothers, Jason was born in the wild. He’s seen sharks and barracuda and even, when he and his previous pod traveled south enough, a few crocodiles. He’s grown big enough now that not many creatures would hunt him anymore, but he imagines a brave enough shark might. The worst thing would be if another siren found them, but he figures most other sirens stay away on account of the monster.
After he finishes burying the bones, Jason returns to his brothers. They’re both sprawled on the sand in front of the den, moonlight filtering through the water and brightening their scales. Dick rolls against a pair of rough stones to polish his scales while Tim entertains himself stacking some of the pebbles Jason has brought him. Jason tries not to disturb the water as he approaches—he’d gotten an earful from Tim last time he’d knocked over the tiny tower. He settles beside Dick and reaches over, running his claws over the little mer’s tail. He finds a few loose scales and plucks them off, burying them in the sand, too. The less sign of their presence, the better.
With a satisfied chirp, Dick twists around and nudges his head into Jason’s hands. Jason turns his attention to his brother’s hair instead, gently easing out tangles with his claws and teeth. Never one to be left out, Tim swims over and nips demandingly at Jason’s shoulder. Jason would be more offended by the pushiness of it if he wasn’t already used to Tim’s utter lack of social skills. He pushes Tim off with a grumble.
“Wait your turn,” he says. “I’m almost done.”
Dick reaches out and snags Tim’s tail, pulling him closer. “C’mere.”
Tim purrs and balls himself up in front of Dick, allowing the older mer to groom him. He has no scales, which had freaked Jason out when they first met—but it turns out he was hatched that way. Jason figures not everybody can be perfect. He still seems to enjoy the gentle scratching of claws over his hide, and begins purring sweetly when Dick licks the tangles from his hair. Jason tends to his own grooming as Dick finishes with Tim, then swims up to poke his head out of the water. The sun has finished setting, leaving only the moon and stars above them. Waves rush softly against the shore to Jason’s right, and a few lone gulls arc overhead. The air is brisk and cold, but the sky is cloudless. It will be the snowing season, soon. Jason will need to bolster their den to keep out the chill. Diving back down to his podmates, he says, “I’m going on patrol. Go back inside.”
“Or you could stay here,” Tim suggests. “Nobody’s gonna come into the monster’s territory.”
Dick points out, rather drolly, “We did.”
Tim frowns as he considers this.
“We need more grass for the nest,” Jason says. “It’s getting colder.”
“Let us come with you,” Dick says.
“Yeah!” Tim wags his tail with excitement, stirring up fine grains of sand. “We’ll stay close and be quiet and do whatever you say.”
“No.”
Look, Jason’s not trying to be mean, okay? But Tim and Dick are both mers. They’re smaller and slower than Jason, and they’re so brightly-colored they can be seen from hundreds of feet away. They’re walking targets. Their claws are dull and they have flat teeth for chewing plants, and only four strange rounded canines to pierce flesh. If a predator caught them, they’d have a hard time fighting free. Jason can’t risk their safety by taking them around the territory with him when they have a perfectly good den to shelter in.
Tim groans and wallows in the sand. “But it’s so boring here. I feel like I’m back in a tank.”
Jason bares his teeth, pissed by the insinuation that he could ever be as bad as Tim’s previous captors. “Well if you hate it here so much, I’m sure we can find a way to send you back.”
“Jason,” Dick says sharply.
Even Tim looks startled by the comment, drawing in on himself.
Jason’s shoulders slouch, and he looks away. “Sorry,” he mutters. “That was shitty.”
“Yeah,” Dick says, gathering Tim close to him and herding him towards the den with gentle nudges. “It was.”
Jason stares after them as they slip into the den, feeling like a total piece of shit. It’s a familiar feeling. With a quiet sigh, he turns and swims away. He makes a short patrol of the area around the den, making sure he picks a few seashells and starfish to appease Tim when he gets back. He also gathers up an armful of swaying seagrass and a few knots of seaweed, popping the bladders with his teeth so they stop floating. When he returns to the den, he lays his bounty down on the sand and chirrs quietly for his pod. Tim peeks out at him, uncertain.
“Here.” Jason nudges a pretty, pink-striped conch shell towards him as a peace offering.
Tim considers it for a moment, then inches his way out of the den. “You wouldn’t really send me back, would you?”
Jason shakes his head vehemently. “Never.”
Tim studies him for a moment more, then smiles and grabs the conch shell. “Okay. Thanks, Jason!”
As Tim darts back into the den to store the conch with his other treasures, Dick comes out to help Jason carry the grass and kelp in. They refresh the nest with it, carrying out tufts of old brown grass and dispersing it in the waves. Dick and Tim nibble on some of the kelp for a snack. Tim wheedles him into trying a bite, which is just as disgusting as it was the last time Jason tried it. He wishes he had kept one of the larger fishbones to gnaw on to rid his mouth of the taste, and settles for a small rock instead. The pressure feels good against his aching fangs, though the noise of his obnoxious chewing eventually annoys Dick so much that he whacks Jason with his tail. Laughing, Jason takes the stone back outside and throws it away. As he turns to re-enter the den, however, he notices a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. He freezes, fins slicked flat against his body so he’ll blend into the murky shadows of the ocean floor.
The moving thing is small, but it isn’t a fish. It lacks any gleam on its scales. It has large, fluffy fins compared to its tiny body. Its scales are entirely black, though its face is a lighter tan color. It’s a siren pup, Jason realizes, and a very young one. It could fit under Jason’s fins. So what is it doing out here all alone? Where are its parents, its pod? Concerned, Jason swims closer and chirrups in question. The pup freezes and flares its fins, its eyes wide. It is a horribly cute display of defiance. Jason wonders if this is what the monster thinks of him, and wants to growl at the very thought.
“Pup?” he calls. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
The pup arches its tail as he approaches. It splays its small, soft black claws.
“Aww,” Jason says, swimming around it. It makes an infuriated popping noise and twists to keep its eyes on him. “You’re so little. What are you doing out here? Do you talk?”
Apparently it doesn’t talk—or if it does, it doesn’t seem interested in talking to Jason. It merely hisses at him, baby fangs on full display. It’s barely the length of Jason’s hand. He wants to put it under his fins and keep it there, hidden from the world. He settles for cupping it in his palms. It gnaws on his fingers, but its jaws are too weak and small to do much damage. Eager to show off his new prize, Jason rushes back to the den with an excited chirr.
“Look!” he exclaims, darting around the corner to come face-to-face with his brothers. “Look what I found.”
Jason opens his hands, letting the siren pup go. It stays stiff and still, its flanks moving rapidly as it breathes. When it notices the mers, it arches its tail and flares its fins again. Jason whacks his own tail against the wall in excitement. It’s so cute. He wants to take care of this little thing as long as he lives and never let anything hurt it, ever.
“Is that a baby siren?” Tim asks, peering curiously at it. It takes a swipe at his nose, and he leans back. “Woah, feisty.”
Dick keeps his distance, brow furrowed. “Where’d you find it?”
“It was just outside, a little ways north of the den,” Jason explains. “I didn’t see or smell any other sirens around. It was all alone.”
But, Jason is forced to admit, it probably belongs to the monster. It looks very similar to the monster itself, with its black hair and frowny face—a monster in miniature, if you will. It carries the monster’s scent on its scales, too, murky and ancient.
“It’s the monster’s, right?” Tim asks, as though reading Jason’s mind. He does that a lot.
“I think so,” says Jason, and then harrumphs. “It must not be a very good pod leader if it loses a pup this little. Really, anything could have eaten it. That monster should be grateful we found it before anything could happen.”
“What are we gonna do with it?” Tim asks, daring to poke at the pup again. It whips around and sinks its teeth into his finger, and he pulls its head gently side to side. “Can we keep it?”
“No,” Dick says immediately.
“No,” Jason agrees. He’s pretty sure the monster really would kill them if they took its pup. That’s not to say he can’t use this situation to his advantage. He scratches one claw thoughtfully against the floor of the den, leaving a deep groove in the sand. “I’ll take it back to the monster.”
“Can I come with you?” Tim asks, like he doesn’t already know the answer.
“No.” If Jason’s not letting them out to patrol with him, he’s sure as hell not letting them waltz into the monster’s den. Jason’s strong, and a good fighter, but he’s under no actual delusions that he could best the monster one-on-one. “You’ll stay here.”
To his surprise, it’s Dick who shakes his head. “We can’t let you go find the monster by yourself. What if he thinks you stole his pup?” Then—“Tim, please don’t put the pup in your mouth. It doesn’t like that.”
Jason snatches the pup back from Tim, tucking it under one of his tattered fins. “I’ll be fine. The monster won’t attack me as long as I have its pup.”
“What about after you give it back?” Dick asks skeptically.
Jason honestly has no idea—but he’s hoping, if he plays his cards right, that the monster will feel indebted to him. Then he can petition for even more territory, and maybe a fat tuna fish for dinner one night. So he says, “I have a plan.”
“Care to share with the group?” Dick asks.
“Nope.” Jason swims out of the den, keeping the pup tucked against his tail and safely beneath one of his fins. “If I’m not back by dawn the monster’s probably eaten me, though, so just keep that in mind.”
Dick gapes after him as he swims back towards the spot where he’d found the pup, and then keeps going. He figures the pup probably came from the monster’s den, so he swims a straight line in the direction it came from. Every few minutes he pauses to open his mouth, tasting the water for the monster’s scent. It leads him east and into deeper waters, which makes him nervous. He stays close to the seafloor, belly brushing the sand. The ocean is always spookier at night. He can see well in the dark, but the colors are muted to shades of gray. He flinches away from a school of tiny fish disturbed by his passing, and immediately feels silly. At least no one is around to see except the pup.
After almost an hour, he’s gone farther than he ever has before. He doesn’t recognize any of the structures around him. The kelp forest has thickened, and he pushes his way through it with a sense of deep unease. It would be hard for him to see a predator coming in here, and even harder to break free of the thick clinging strands. He hums a few half-remembered notes of friendsong under his breath—not proper singing, but enough to soothe himself as he creeps through the dark living mouth of the ocean. The water warms as he pushes deeper, the seabed sloping down and down and down until it finally falls off. He stops at the edge, heart in his throat. There’s no way he’s going down there. That’s crazy.
“What were you thinking, running so far away?” Jason asks the pup.
It doesn’t respond. When he curves back and lifts one fin to examine it, it appears to be asleep against his side. He smiles, and folds his fin back down to keep it trapped in place. He remembers being that little, once, and napping against his mama’s tail while they traveled. The memory is a sweet one, though the edges are bittered with the knowledge of what happened after.
Before Jason can bolster his courage to descend into the black waters of the abyss, his scales prickle. There’s a predator watching him. Water moves against his fins, displaced by something much larger than himself. He whips around, eyes wide. The monster looms several feet ahead of him, the shape of it obscured by strands of kelp. Its eyes are luminescent in the dark, and two lines of glowing blue and yellow dots stripe down its tail and up its spine. Jason feels very small and drab in comparison, and trembles faintly. He’s never faced the monster in open water before.
“Jason?” the monster asks, its voice low.
Jason swallows. “Hey.”
“What are you doing out here? You should be in the den.”
“Well, I would’ve been, but we had a visitor.” Jason reaches back and pulls the pup from under his fins. It stirs awake, biting his fingers. “This yours?”
The monster advances with clear interest. “Damian?”
“Stay back!” Jason snaps, clutching the pup to his chest.
“Alright.” The monster stops, though its gaze is unwavering. “Is he hurt?”
Jason shakes his head. “He’s okay. We found him outside of our den.”
“I have no idea how he got that far away. We’ve been looking for him all night.”
“Some parent you are,” Jason says, with a haughty sniff. His mom and dad had never lost him when he was this little, and Jason’s sure if he had a pup of his own he’d never lose it, either. “You should’ve been watching him.”
“Alfred watches him at night.”
The water moves again, currents altered by another approaching presence. As though spoken into existence, Alfred appears behind the monster. Alfred is a siren, too, though significantly smaller than the monster and with the weathered gray scales of an elder. Jason hisses nervously, and he pauses beside the monster.
“Why, you’ve found him,” Alfred says. “Thank goodness. We were so worried.”
The pup squeaks in Jason’s hands, beating its tail against his palms.
“Can I have him back?” the monster asks.
“Yes,” Jason says, “but I have stipulations.”
“Stipulations?” Alfred frowns deeply. “Little one, you cannot barter with a pup. That is unspeakably cruel.”
“It’s alright, Alfred,” the monster says.
“I’ll give him back,” Jason continues. “But in return, I want even more territory. I want—I want all the way to the sunning rocks, and to the shore cave on the other side.”
“Okay,” the monster says. “You can have it all if you like. My territory is your territory. You can come and go as you please. I only ask that you let me know when you plan to travel far from the den, so I can ensure that the waters are clear.”
Jason mulls this over. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“It’s for your safety.”
“I’m not weak.”
“But you are small.”
Jason hisses in irritation. “You’re not making the rules. I am.”
“Hn.”
“And I want a tuna,” Jason continues, raising his voice to be heard over the monster’s blatant skepticism. “Two tuna, tomorrow night for dinner.”
“I’ll bring you tuna every night if you like.”
“No. Just tomorrow. And the next day, um—crab,” Jason says, because Tim really likes crab. But he doesn’t want Dick to feel left out, so he adds, “And the day after that we want lobster. Big ones.”
Jason swears he sees a smile flicker at the edges of the monster’s face. “Quite the list of demands you have, little one,” it says. “I’ll make sure it gets done.”
“Good.” Jason frowns, wondering what else he should ask for. “When I let go of Damian, you can’t attack me.”
“I would never attack you.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’d beat you up,” Jason agrees with more confidence than he truly feels, smacking his tail against the sand. “Here.”
Jason releases the pup, who swims eagerly to the monster’s side. The monster purrs and cups it in its hands, nuzzling it sweetly before tucking it under a fin. Jason is glad to see how gentle it is. He would’ve felt bad sending the pup back to a mean dad. But the monster, despite its size and imposing manner, seems to genuinely care for its offspring.
“Thank you, Jason,” the monster says. “I owe you for keeping him safe.”
“Yeah,” Jason agrees, “you do.”
“Will you not come back to our den for the night?” Alfred asks. “It is late, and a long ways to your own den. It will be safer to stay with us.”
Jason shakes his head. He has to get back to his pod.
“Very well,” the monster says. “At least let me escort you back home.”
Jason opens his mouth to refuse, but before he can he feels another strange flicker in the water. He curves around, expecting to see a nearby fish or shark. His eyes catch the glint of bright scales and a pale face, instead. He hisses in outrage. Tim and Dick followed him! He sees them both now, hiding uselessly between strands of kelp.
“What is that?” The monster moves towards them at once, vivid interest in its glowing gaze. “Are those mer?”
Jason shrieks in immediate fury and throws himself against the monster, digging his claws into its side and slicing. His claws are wicked things, and they cut through the hard scale of the monster with unnatural ease. Blood bursts into the water like streamers, hot and salty against Jason’s face. The monster snarls in sudden pain and turns on him, knocking him aside with its heavy tail. He tumbles through the open water, grasping for the kelp to stop his momentum and pull himself upright again. He sees Tim and Dick moving towards him and barks in alarm.
“Go!” he shouts. “Get away!”
Instead, Dick lurches towards them. The monster twists to face him, and Jason scrambles back towards it. He bites onto the large fin that runs the length of its back, digging his teeth in and raking his claws down its spine. He feels hot blood well up around his fingers. The monster lashes its tail, smacking him off again. This time it turns to face him entirely, which had been the point. It flares its fins, and Jason sees its pattern for the first time: blazing, bioluminescent blue stripes overlaid with poisonous yellow. It’s beautiful. If Jason were any less terrified, he might pause to admire the clash of colors. As it is, he’s so scared he feels like he’s gonna throw up. He flares his own lackluster fins in response, growling thinly.
“Enough,” the monster says, blood clouding the water around it. It rumbles deep in its chest—a sound Jason hasn’t heard since his mom died. It’s a demand for surrender from an adult to a pup. Joke’s on the monster, ‘cause Jason doesn’t know how to surrender anymore. “Be still.”
Instead, Jason throws himself at the monster’s face with his claws outstretched. The monster twists to the side, eerily fast despite its size, and uses Jason’s own momentum to shove him forward. His shoulder strikes a rocky outcropping and he flails, but the monster pushes down until he’s pinned on his back against the stone. Jason’s vision flashes lurid green. There is blood in his mouth, in his nose, in his gills. His scales burn. A volley of cheers roars in his ears. He scrabbles his claws down the monster’s forearm, and it recoils.
“What is wrong with you?” it asks.
Jason wonders that himself.
“Go away,” Jason pants, adrenaline boiling like poison in his blood. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you. I’ll rip your gills out. You think I won’t? Try to touch me again, shitface!”
To Jason’s surprise, the monster moves back towards Alfred. It looks at him, deeply unsettled, swiping its tongue over the massacre he’s made of its arm. When it doesn’t retreat quickly enough for him, Jason flares his fins and shrieks. It isn’t a proper sirensong, but the monster seems to get the point anyway. With one last, wary glance over its shoulder, it retreats with Alfred in tow. Jason watches them go, teeth bared and chest heaving, for several long seconds. The thrill of victory is a sick thing, and sits like a hard lump in his lungs.
“Jason?” Tim whispers, creeping towards him.
Jason turns on him, hissing. “You idiots,” he says. “What were you thinking? They could’ve killed you! They know you’re mer, now. They know you’re weak. They’ll be coming after us.”
“I didn’t mean for him to see us,” Tim says, cringing. “We were worried.”
“I told you to stay at the den. I told you this would happen. Why don’t you ever listen? What do I have to do to make you listen?” Jason lifts his hand, claws glinting.
“Jason!” Dick barks.
Jason freezes, staring down at Tim. The little mer has curled in on himself, hiding his face from the gleam of Jason’s claws. He doesn’t even have scales. If Jason hit him, he’d tear him to ribbons. Something sour rises in Jason’s throat, and he lowers his hand.
“That’s enough,” Dick says, moving between Jason and Tim. “That monster’s right, you know. There really is something wrong with you. Figure it out, and don’t you dare take it out on us.”
The mers turn away, heading back through the thick kelp towards the shallows. After a moment, Jason follows them. He feels slow and heavy as the adrenaline washes out of his body, leaving his limbs trembling with tiny aftershocks of rage. Jason knows they’re right. There’s something wrong with him deep inside where he can’t reach it—something bright and angry, something that wants to kill and maim, something steeped in hate and reared in rage. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to get rid of it.
God, his teeth hurt.