The young Mer was used to blacking out. She was familiar with opening her eyes and finding herself in new places – often with new pains and aches – after the scientists had poked her with a needle. It was a frequent occurrence, and it often left her with a massive headache or sense of dizziness.
This time, as she pushed herself up from the glass floor she had previously been sprawled against, she found herself in a large tank. A frown pulled at her lips as she gazed around. She had come to learn that her captors never did anything – especially anything good or kind – without a reason. There was usually a catch to things that could be viewed as ‘gifts’ and this was far more space than she ever tended to receive. Her fin flicked with anxiety as she studied her surroundings for a hint at what was to come. The tank was taller than it was wide, with a series of vertical steps along one side that led to a platform that stretched partway over the surface of the water. There was no lid, and she could surface if she wished – though she did not – which was also strange. They normally did not like to allow her the chance to leave the water unless they were supervising and dragging her from it to cart her off somewhere.
There seemed to be another tank beside hers, and the platform stretched over both, but it did not look like she could access it without leaping over the barrier. She scowled as she stared up at it. She was sure that she was capable of making such a jump – it was not very high – but it had been so long since she had this much space and she was not sure she knew how to perform that feat.
With a shake of her head, she gazed beyond the clear barriers of her confines. The room was large and mostly gray, with all sorts of equipment she did not know or understand. She doubted she would have liked any of it, however, so she did not care to know what any of it did. She appeared to be alone, though she also had the sinking suspicion in her gut that something was going to happen. If she held her breath and listened very hard, she could hear past the noisy burbling of the tank’s filter out into the tunnels that lay behind this particular room. There were lots of people making lots of noise as they tromped quickly through the halls. They only rushed when they were working on something big. Their excitement was usually her dread, and it made her want to curl into a tiny ball even though she knew that with no cover she had no way to hide.
She remained where she was for a long while, her fin tapping up and down against the floor as a way to release some of the nervous energy building in her. Gradually, the outside sounds faded away, and she was truly left alone. Chewing her lip, she cautiously pushed up off the floor and swam a few laps around the tank at a midway depth. Despite whatever consequence may befall her later, it felt so good to have the space to stretch out her cramped, kinked muscles. She was not even sure how she could still swim with how much time she would spend in a too-small tank with hardly enough room to stretch her tail out to its full length. Though she never had any real concept of time, she would lay with her hip dug into the glass until fire burned the length of her body and she would desperately shuffle or roll to the other side in an attempt to stave off the worst of the motionless locking of her muscles.
The Mer rolled from her front to her back and twisted her body to its limits until it hurt, and then sighed with relief as the knots deep inside finally began to loosen. For longer than she cared to remember, it had been like an itch she could not reach to scratch, paining her and making discomfort her constant companion. Discomfort and fear were her unwanted friends, but the only ones she had. She hated them, but she supposed it was better than feeling nothing at all.
She swam a few more circles, and then slowly drifted back down to the floor with flaring gills as she panted. It was so hard to move now, to waste any energy at all when she had so little to give anymore. They used to feed her properly – at least she assumed else she probably would have perished instead of growing – but for the last long while, she was more familiar with constant fatigue and roiling hunger – more friends she did not want – than she knew was healthy. If she ran her fingers down her sides, she could feel each rib straining against her flesh as her skin grew too taut to hold them in properly. It was the same with her hips, and the rounded bones in her elbows and wrists.
She sighed and gritted her teeth together until they creaked within her skull. She just wanted to swim, to finally have the chance, but no matter her desires, her body lacked the strength for even simple tasks. She huffed silently and a stream of bubbles jetted from her lips to flutter to the surface. Resigned to her situation, she pulled her tail up closer for warmth and laid her cheek on one arm. If she was still alone after a short nap, perhaps she would have the energy to exercise more.
***
A loud bang echoed through the water and the Mer’s head shot up as she was startled from a fitful slumber. She curled her tail even closer and pulled herself down into a ball. She knew she was safest on the floor – where it would be more of a hassle to reach her at this depth – but as the noises grew louder, her anxiety spurred her to move, to flee even though she had nowhere to go, and she shoved away from the glass bottom and back to the wall furthest from the door. She sucked in water and hovered there with her back pressed against the barrier as she stared with her pounding heart drumming in her ears. She shook her head in attempt to clear the internal throb that was muffling the sounds she wanted to track.
When the doors finally opened, the Mer bit her lip hard enough that the sharp, bitter tang of her own blood coated her tongue and a small pink-red wisp flowed up in front of her gaze. She shuddered and watched as a group of workers filtered into the room followed by two scientists pushing a gurney. It did not look empty, but she could not get a good enough look with all the bodies in the way. Her heart stalled at the faces of the men in the long white coats. Dr. Patron. The name rung in her head, though she had never spoken it – or anything, really. Not in a very long time – but it was easy to recognize the man that haunted her dreams. She hated most that her pain seemed to be a game for him, one that he forced her to play lest she face further, even more unpleasant consequences. She despised the game, and its rules. There was no way to escape the pain, but she had to swim a careful line between giving him a reason to punish her so he could play and taking things too far so that he grew truly enraged.
For so long she had wanted to simply curl up, retreat inside her head, and forget the world around her. She had tried before, to succumb to the ever-present feeling of numbness that lurked in the edges of her mind. But whenever she fell limp that way, he found some new, horrible way to drag her back to reality in ways that would leave her shaking and crippled for several sleeps. She found no enjoyment or satisfaction in mock lunging or showing aggression to him or his interns, knew it would get her nowhere, but she had to play the game. He made sure she played, always.
Though admittedly, he had been around a little less lately. She would have loved the reprieve if it were not for the scientist beside him now. The one that watched her differently. He played no games and most often ignored her, except when he wanted something. She shuddered and her back flared up at the reminder of last time. Not much time had passed since he last hauled her off to the machine. The loud one with so many needles that stabbed her spine and made her feel weak and drained and so sore for so long. She was not sure which of them was worse to have come for her.
Right now, they did not spare her so much as a glance and she drifted back down to the ground to coil into a tiny ball as they turned away from the tank and began fussing with a strange sling of fabric that a crane had lowered for them. She hoped if she stayed small and still, their attention would not be drawn to her.
They were putting something in the sling. The Mer studied them carefully. There was a bright flash of purple that dotted the walls in little glittering lights. It was the same way her tail did when it caught the light. The Mer frowned and despite her fears, uncurled enough to lean closer. She could not have seen what she thought, surely? It was some sort of trick. It had been far too long. She was alone. Always alone. In some ways, it was better that way even though it cracked the heart she fought so hard to preserve.
A loud cranking noise reverberated in her ears as the crane’s cable began to retract, pulling the sling up with it. There had been no fuss with loading it, and the Mer began to wonder if whatever was inside was deceased. But then it wiggled and the sling jerked about as it was swung up over the top of the other tank and hung in place.
There was a sharp clicking sound and then one side of the sling fell open and allowed the occupant to plummet with a call of surprise.
The Mer watched with wide eyes as the figure hit the water with a splash and promptly sunk like a stone. It was another Mer. She looked older – though not by much – and certainly bigger and stronger and healthier, and the young Mer shied back at the implications. She knew nothing now of her people or how to behave. Would this one grow angry with her presence? Was this a trick to toy with her hope, only to tear it away as she was beaten into submission by one of her own? It would not surprise her if the scientists played that game with her.
The other Mer had a long, slender tail that glittered with vibrant violet shades, and her fin was wider and flatter than the young Mer’s own. Her hair was just as long, and surrounding her in a massive, dark brown plume, while dark dots splattered over the tanned skin of her face. The comparison to the young Mer’s own pale, veiny skin was striking. There was something off about this other girl though. Her eyes were wide with fright and she was flailing her arms through the water with her cheeks puffed up. Her fin waved side to side, but she did not go anywhere. Did she not know how to swim?
That was a strange notion to the young Mer, given she was older and her healthy appearance seemed to indicate she was recently caught, though she showed none of the aggression towards the humans that she would have expected from one of her kind.
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The scientists were talking, and the young Mer focused for a moment on them to catch part of their conversation. There was a woman with them, and she was speaking.
“I really think we should get Ka-Bailey out of there; she doesn’t look so good.”
The young Mer’s gaze whipped back to the struggling Mer and a sharp thorn of jealousy jabbed her in the gut. Why did this one get a name when all she had known for as long as she could remember back were cruel jabs?
Beast. Animal. Monster. Devilfish. Thing. The young Mer curled her fingers into fists so that her nails dug into her palms. The prickles of pain helped stem the flow of taunts that jeered in her head. She had been without an identity for longer than she knew, and it weighed heavily on her.
Her jealousy faded away as she continued to gaze at the other Mer. There really was something wrong with this girl, but her eyes were bloodshot and she was growing pale, and her struggling was weakening. She was drowning. Her gills were closed.
Though the young Mer had never experienced the instinctive response to being underwater failing her, she knew it was happening to this other. She could not breathe water while there was air in her lungs.
Without truly considering what she was doing or the consequences of her actions, the younger Mer knew she had to do something, so she shoved off the floor once more and raced for the surface. Had there been time to process it, the jump may have felt exhilarating, and so different from anything she had been allowed to do in the past.
She could hear the woman screeching as she plunged back down into the opposite tank and dove for the bottom. The other Mer looked rather limp now and there was not much time. The girl struggled weakly as the young Mer wrapped her arms around her belly from behind and began to squeeze. The Mer wheezed and bubbles floated from her lips, but she still had not opened her gills. What was wrong? Why was she not breathing and swimming the way she should? Had the scientists done something to her? The younger Mer did not understand and she was not sure how to help. She brought her hands up to cup the other Mer’s neck, her nails grazing behind her ears where her gills should be.
After a moment they finally, finally opened and the young Mer clapped a hand over the other Mer’s mouth. She knew if the girl gasped for a breath now, she would swallow the water wrong and choke. She waited a moment until the Mer squirmed and then carefully parted her fingers. She pulled away entirely when bubbles streamed from the other Mer’s gills and she finally seemed to be breathing on her own.
Now that the crisis had passed, horror flooded up in the young Mer and she darted away, mentally cursing her own stupidity. She had gotten too close, she had grabbed, she had jumped. There was so much she had done that she should not have, never would have, and considered wrong. The scientists would get mad, she knew they would. This Mer could have attacked, and still might, and despite there being something off with her, the young Mer knew that she possessed neither the strength or ability to handle herself in a fight. She would only face more pain.
She wanted to leap back into her own confines and hope the other Mer would not feel inclined to follow, but the first jump and the burst of adrenaline had drained her of her energy reserves once more, and she wound up simply sinking to the floor of the current tank and panting. Fear wracked her body and aided the fatigued shivers causing her to quake.
When she glanced back to see if she would be pursued, she found the older Mer still struggling to leave the floor and swim. She was moving her tail wrong. It looked painful, the bizarre jerk of her limb as though she did not even know how it was meant to move.
The younger Mer hesitated as she caught her breath and then slowly returned to the other Mer’s side. The Mer was staring at her with the same glossy fear that the young Mer felt, and it helped relax her a little. At least it did not seem like the older wanted to attack. Still, she kept her motions slow and studied the other for any clues in her body language that she was displeased.
The purple Mer’s scales were smooth and cool in the younger’s hands as she carefully grabbed hold at the base of her fin. She slowly bent it back and forth in hopes of reminding the other Mer to swim. It was probably stupid of her. The scientists were watching, and she hated to give them something new to look at; that often meant they would get curious and they would hurt her more. And teaching this newcomer to swim only made her more mobile so she could attack if she wanted. But the young Mer knew how it felt to feel trapped and helpless, and knew it had to be so much worse if one could not swim properly.
As she worked the fin, the purple’s eyes filled with understanding and her fin began to move on its own, so the younger let go. She reached higher up and touched the Mer’s tail in another place, and kicked her own to make a point. She took the older Mer’s hand and pulled her forward, and then the girl began to swim finally. It was slowly and awkwardly, but at least she was moving. Despite her reservations and her exhaustion, the younger Mer kept pace with her and used the tips of her own fin to keep the other’s from spasming in random directions.
Gradually, the other Mer picked up more speed and was changing directions on her own, and the younger fell behind. Her gills were flaring with exertion and her hands were beginning to shake, her vision growing blurry. She had moved too much.
As she stopped, the other Mer drifted closer. Her arms were spread wide and while it was possible that she only meant to hug her, terror flooded her veins and she found a small scrap of remaining energy to dart for the surface.
Once back in the tank she had originally been in, the young Mer glanced back and saw that the older did not seem to be inclined to follow her. With a sigh of relief that made her heart ache, the young Mer collapsed on the floor of her tank with a heaving chest. She did not want to sleep now, not when she felt so vulnerable, but her heavy eyes gave her no choice as they slid shut and everything else faded away.
***
The young Mer rarely slept deeply enough that sound would not rouse her, but it was also not often that she overworked herself that much. So it was not the sound of people talking or entering the room that woke her, but rather the smell. There was the strong scent of food permeating the water, and it made her belly rumble noisily. The young Mer winced and clutched at the shriveled flesh of her middle. She opened her eyes and sat back up off the ground where she had sprawled. Her neck was cricked from such an awkward sleeping position.
She glanced up towards the platform at the top of the tanks. The other Mer was there, with her head above the surface, and the young Mer recognized the scent of the other woman, as well as her voice. Was she talking to the Mer? Why?
Whether or not they were talking, the woman was feeding the purple Mer, and the young one fought to keep her jealousy at bay. It was not fair that the healthier one was being favored, but it was also not her fault and she deserved whatever comforts she could gleam because they were few and far between in this place.
The young Mer parted her lips to scent better and found the scientist – the one who toyed with her – up with the woman. She shrank away in horror. The two were talking, asking about being done with something. Then there was a splash and two fish skeletons began sinking into her side of the tank. The woman was exclaiming about that being all she was being fed but – as ashamed as she felt – at least it was something and the young Mer fell on both ravenously. There was still tailfins and heads, and while it was hard, thin meat that would not be very filling, she tore at it because she would starve if she did not. Her tongue stung as sharp shards sliced at is as she cracked the bones to lick for any marrow she could get at, and her belly gurgled with a need that drove her to a frenzy.
She did not hear what else was said, or see either human retreat, but when she looked up, the two Mer were alone once more. She could see the other looking at her, and then there was another splash and something else dropped into her tank. It was another fish, but this one was untouched.
The young Mer was staring at it with disbelief. The other Mer had thrown it, had surrendered her meal – or at least part of it – and the young one could not understand why. She glanced over, but the older was no longer looking at her, but instead curling up at the bottom of her tank. She hesitated once more, but her hunger drove her to take the fish and continue eating.
The flesh was juicy and salty, and for once when she bit, she had a mouthful. She only made it halfway through the savory piece before she began to feel full. Her shrivelled stomach did not fully know what to do with a proper meal, but she forced herself to finish it off regardless. She never knew when she would next get to eat, and would never waste food.
When all that was left was a handful of cracked open bones, the younger Mer swam up and tossed the scraps up onto the platform. Only a few instincts had lingered with her from before this place, but something drove her to discard the remnants. Never eat and sleep in the same place lest it attract predators. Not that those who hunted her were spurred by food or warded away by barrenness or warning displays.
Now that her hunger was sated fully for the first time in ages, the young Mer only wanted to rest and hope that when she woke, she might feel better than she had in a long time. She shivered as she lay down. The water had begun to grow very cold, and her frail form had no fat to keep her warm. She huddled into the closest corner of the tank to pen in as much of her body heat as she could.
Sleep evaded her no matter how she tried as she lay there. Her shaking had grown worse and her fin and fingers were numb from the cold. Her gills worked slowly and each breath hurt. She was in a limp state between sleep and wakefulness, but every time she started to drift, horrors lurked behind her lids to torment her awake again. She did not know how long it went on, but she did not feel the water shift, did not know the other was there until warm hands brushed over her shoulder.
If the silent young Mer could have yelped, she would have as she jerked up and rolled to look behind her. The purple Mer was settling down beside her, and there was a soft smile on her lips and understanding in her eyes. The young Mer’s heart stalled in her chest, first with fear, then disbelief and hope. The other Mer was so warm in the cold and she had come over to freeze. Why? The young Mer desperately hoped it was because they were equally starved for affection. She so desperately wanted a friend. An actual living, breathing companion rather than the haunting emotions that lingered with her normally.
For the first time in a long, long time, a warm emotion sparked in her chest that she did not understand at first, and a smile pulled on her lips. She was happy. She did not remember when she had last been happy. Had not known she could still feel such a pleasant emotion. Taking a leap of faith, she laid back down and snuggled into the other Mer, craving her warmth.
It did not matter if it upset the purple or if she attacked, it would be worth it if the younger could just have this one moment of perceived affection. She needed it, had needed it for so long she had not even recognized the need for what it was.
The purple Mer did not attack, and instead shifted closer and wrapped the younger in an embrace. She bit her lip so she would not sob and shatter the moment, and finally, finally, sleep came for her. A slumber not spurred by exhaustion and not riddled with terror, but rather a deep, dreamless sleep brought on by security. She wondered if there had ever been a time she had felt safe, but she did not care. She felt it now, and that was all that mattered as her conscious mind flickered out.