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Elliot Knight didn’t really understand
emotions
all that well. Most people thought that was just his excuse to not interact with people- and it was partially true. But he didn’t understand his own, either. It wasn’t like fighting. He could understand that.
He just
got angry
, so angry he saw
red
and suddenly he didn’t feel like he was in control of his own body anymore. He felt like a viewer outside of his body just expected to take on the repercussions of whatever he did. His body would just
decide
to get angry, or so anxious he couldn’t breathe, or so filled with nervous energy that he couldn’t sit still. It felt like his own body was betraying him.
Sometimes he thinks there’s something deeply
wrong
with him. There’s something in his brain that’s wired wrong. It seems like everyone around him has a direct line between their heart and their brain- what they
want
to happen and what
does
. It feels like he got cheated out of that somehow. He’s missing some vital experience that everyone in the world gets but him. He feels helpless to his own body.
It would make sense that something was wrong with his brain. The rest of him is wrong already. Kids aren’t supposed to be born with red eyes, or sharp teeth, or tails like little devils. Every part of him has been genetically
wrong
since he was conceived on a molecular level.
Crying he hated the most.
He had an ugly, gross kind of cry. The kind that stole all of the air from his lungs until he was hiccupping and gasping for air in a throat that burned and fought against him. Tears always flowed hot and fast like a water fountain from his eyes, burning like acid against his face with the shame he felt for it. And he would always cry over something so
stupid
and little.
Like now.
He wasn’t crying over the fact that he’d been humiliated and beat by Blood in front of every peer he could possibly have in this building. He wasn’t crying over the fact that he didn’t have any real hold on his powers- the
only thing
Blood told him he could really use to prove he had the right to exist in this world- and maybe he never would. He wasn’t crying over the fact that today was his ninth birthday, and not a person in the world could be brought to care, including himself.
He was crying because the one orange he was able to steal from the cafeteria was rotten, once he’d bit into it. He was crying because everytime he lost a fight, Blood limited his cafeteria privileges. He was crying because he could feel his stomach eating him from the inside and he was just
so tired
of his body revolting against him.
He threw the orange down into the water through an open porthole in the floor, yelling and kicking and clawing at things angrily while tears ran down his face.
After a while, he just fell to the floor with a deep sob, gasping and hiccupping for air again. He rubbed roughly at his eyes and face before placing the pads of his thumbs against the tips of some of his teeth, feeling them cut skin and bite down into his own fingers.
It was a distraction. The pain made it so he couldn’t keep thinking about what was making him cry. It’s why he always wore gloves to class now.
His teeth nearly vibrated with the want to bite down into something, to
eat
. Maybe this was Blood’s plan all along- to turn Elliot into a man eater. This way, even if he could never really learn to be of any real use, Blood could at least just sic him on people like a mad dog when needed.
He always hated how he felt after the anger and the crying, too. He always felt so cold and alone, like a reminder that his anger was the only thing really keeping him alive. He felt so spent.
He was sitting in an abandoned section of the academy, somewhere he was pretty sure Blood didn’t even know he could reach, so the chill here didn’t help. It must’ve been cut off before Blood could completely finish it. Elliot could only reach it through a vent that he’d crawl through from his room. It had one huge porthole outlooking the ocean floor outside of the academy, and a small cut out section in the floor of leveled, open water. It was cramped, and freezing, and probably littered in health code violations and danger, but he couldn’t honestly say that anyway would care if he did drown in this cramped little room. He was too weak to teleport back to land- Blood made sure of that, even if he did remember how to do it- and going back into the academy always felt like some walk of shame.
Elliot let out a hoarse, shuddering sigh, pulling his thumbs back from his mouth. He rubs them against his palms and fingers, watching with an almost dissociation as the blood smothered into his chalk white skin.
He put his thumbs back against the point of his teeth, pulling a bit. He wondered for a moment how much better his life might be if he ripped his rows of teeth out completely. He could taste the metal tang of his blood in his mouth, smothering against his own teeth.
“
Hey!
” Rang out in the small space.
Elliot jumped back, looking around wildly before landing on the large…fish-man? peeking up above the open water of the porthole in the ground. Elliot froze, confused. The man was definitely
large
, with blueish-grey skin and a huge metal contraption around his mouth, protecting big shark teeth.
“Don’t do that!” He shrieked. “You’re gonna mess up how your teeth grow back!”
“My…T-tee-” Elliot choked out. He swallowed, noticing for a moment he’d finally stopped crying. He got so surprised his body must’ve forgotten about it completely. “...My teeth don’t grow back. I’ve got my big ones in already.”
“They don’t?” The man asked quizzically, giving him a confused look. “Are you sure?”
“Most of ‘em.” Elliot said, nodding. He opened his mouth wide, tonguing his one loose front tooth. “This ones loose.” He got out through a lisp.
“Why doesn’t it just- fall out?” The blue man asked, shaking his head in confusion. “Another one should just pop back in the next day. You’ve got teeth like mine, mine are never loose like that.”
“My teeth aren’t like yours, even if they look like it.” Elliot explained through a mumble, shrugging. “...You’re a shark, right?”
“
A
shark.” The man grumbled, setting his arms against the floor and folding them so he could stay afloat where he was in the hole. “I’m not
a
shark, I’m
the
shark, kid!” He said with gusto.
Elliot nodded. “Right. You’re
King
Shark, right? Batman’s bad guy?”
“Eh, I like to think I fight around. I don’t have a steady hero right now.” He said, shrugging a bit. “But you can call me Nannue.”
There was another small silence as they stared at each other, taking in appearances. Nannue seemed to be trying to fit together Elliot’s teeth, his eyes, his tail, like some big puzzle missing a few pieces. Elliot was just trying to take everything in about Nannue- from his size, to the shark like texture of his skin, to how the big metal muzzle on his face worked and what it was for. He’d heard that there were monsters in Gotham, but he thought people were just exaggerating, like when they called Elliot a monster.
He’d never seen someone so big before.
“You’ve got a tail.” Nanue grumbled, putting his hand on his chin like he was thinking. Elliot reflexively curled it around his body, bringing his knees back up to his chest and twisted the matted end of his tail in his palms nervously. “Most shark people don’t have tails. Maybe you’re more Alopias Superciliosus.”
Elliot tilted his head, feeling his ears droop in confusion.
Nanue chuckled at him, smiling. “They’re often called Bigeye Threshers, or Fox Sharks. They’ve got big, long tails-” Nanue made a big motion with his hands, and Elliot couldn’t help but unfurl to stare up at the length he was gesturing with wide, curious eyes. Nanue seemed to appreciate the curiosity, smiling in a way that would’ve scared most people away with his big teeth. “They use them to slap at big schools of fish, stunning them so they drop limp in the water and don’t have to chase them like other sharks do.”
Elliot held the end of his tail up in an almost accusatory way, making Nanue laugh. For a moment, he tried the motion that Nanue had made, seeing if maybe he did have a hidden talent. He could use any advantage he could get where fighting was concerned.
His tail fell limply or simply swayed back and forth the way it normally did, up until when Elliot angrily shook it in frustration and it quickly slapped him on the head before once again going limp.
Elliot groaned, rubbing his head.
Nanue snorted. “Okay, maybe not a thresher. You look more like a chaser anyway. Your tail keeps swaying- it looks like for balance. Maybe you’re a little more Mako.”
Elliot tilted his head again, making Nanue chuckle.
“Isurus Oxyrinchus!” He announced proudly. “They can reach speeds of 80 miles per hour when they really want to, and they’ve big, protruding teeth.” He made a bunch of spike motions at his jaw for effect. “Sound familiar?”
Elliot sighed, pouting and shaking his head. He definitely couldn’t go
that
fast, even if he specialized in getting away. “...I don’t think I’m a shark.” He sighed. “I don’t think I’m an
anything
.”
“...Well, that’s not true.” Nanue said simply. “You’re definitely a
something
. New species don’t just pop up out of thin air.”
“...Are there other shark people out there, in the ocean?” Elliot asked, watching the blue of the porthole with a kind of yearning that Nanue didn’t like to see. “Is that why you’re the king?”
“No.” Nanue said simply, with a sigh. “There aren’t any more shark people. There’s just me. But that’s why I’m the king.”
“...I don’t think there are any Wykkyds out there either.” Elliot sighed. “...I think it’s just me.”
“Wykkyds, huh?” Nanue asked, leaning his head down on his folded hands so he could lean a little closer to Elliot and meet eyes with him. It was kind of funny to Elliot, seeing this big hulking mass of apex predator trying so hard not to scare him away.
“...That’s what Blood calls me.” Elliot explained, shrugging mirthlessly. “
Kyd Wykkyd
. He’s training me to be a villain, like everyone else. Or to be a testing dummy. I’m not sure yet.”
“
Blood
.” Nanue spat. His face curled up in anger. Elliot stared up at him in surprise. He looked a lot nicer when he wasn’t angry. “Don’t tell me you mean
Sebastian
Blood.”
“...Well, we’re not allowed to call him that. We’re supposed to call him Brother.” Elliot said.
“
Ugh-
” he spat like it physically made him sick. Nanue straightened up more and more as he ranted. “That man is a
joke
of a so-called supervillain- a
coward
- a-” He groaned as he hit his head with a small noise on the ceiling.
Elliot snorted, giggling a bit as Nanue rubbed his head fin.
“...Well, what is a Wykkyd, then?” Nanue asked, calming down as he saw Elliot opening up again. “Y’know, I’m only the most intelligent mammal in this ocean. I need to know how to file any other Wykkyds I meet by genus and species.”
“...Isn’t Aquaman a mammal?” Elliot asked with a sly smile.
“
Aquaman
is a
fool
. He doesn’t count.” Nanue spat.
Elliot hummed, looking out at the ocean again and watching as various sea life floated by.
“...Well, a Wykkyd has…a really long tail. Longer than they are tall, usually.” He said. “...And pointy ears. And red eyes. And…” Elliot sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “...They’re very, very lonely, wherever they are.”
Nanue sighed. “...What are you doing here, kid?” He asked simply. “You look damn near miserable. And I know from experience that
Brother
in there is no real help. He’s probably the source.”
Elliot shrugged, sighing. “...I can’t leave.” He said simply. “I barely know how to use my powers, and even if I did, it’s not like I have anywhere to go. I’m choosing between a bed and shelter and a lot of humiliation, or being chased down in the streets like a dog by people trying to kill the
devil boy
.”
Elliot brought his knees up to his chest again, shaking his head. “...It’s probably better that I’m locked up down here, in the ocean. I can’t hurt anybody else down here. I can’t keep people up at night thinking about the red eyed monster that stole food from the local general store.”
Nanue made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat before suddenly he was awkwardly crawling into the little abandoned hobby hole Elliot had taken up space in. There was suddenly water
everywhere
, and Elliot felt undeniably unsafe when Nanue finally sat back down next to him, and he heard an unmistakable creak in the foundation of the room.
“...Coming from a fellow monster,” Nanue said, placing a huge clawed hand on Elliot’s dainty shoulder. “I don’t think
you’re
a monster. I think you’re a kid.”
“Don’t call me that.” He bit, shrugging the hand off of his shoulder.
“...You know, we’re not so different. Even if you aren’t a shark, technically.” Nanue said with an almost fond smile.
“...Technically?” Elliot asked, eyeing him.
“We’re definitely the same species inside.” Nanue said simply. “I get it. It’s easy to hide down here in the ocean and to feel like it’s your fault somehow. You feel like a villain, so you just let that river sweep you away.”
"Maybe it's sweeping me away because it's where I'm meant to go." Elliot grumbled, shrugging sharply. "No good at anything else."
“
That’s Blood’s problem.
” Nanue spat, huffing. “...Your value to him isn’t equal to your worth as a living being. Just because you aren’t useful to
him
in some way doesn’t mean you aren’t good at
anything,
or that you’re useless to yourself.”
“How can
everyone
be wrong, though?” Elliot whispered back, a hollow lump coming up in his throat again. “There’s no one in this building who cares about me, and it’s
because
I’m useless to the Brother! How can all those people be wrong?!”
When he realized his volume, he clamped his mouth shut, whimpering and shoving his head back down into his folded arms.
Even now, he was rotten and useless and
wicked.
Nanue had been so nice to him, and Elliot was sitting here yelling at him.
“...That can’t be true.” Nanue sighed out, disbelief in his voice as he patted Elliot’s head.
Elliot hissed in a sharp breath, flinching away for a moment before he realized Nanue hadn’t touched his head to try and hurt him or pull his hair. He felt guilty for the startled, sad look on Nanue’s face, but if he said something about it, Nanue would ask.
“...You’ve gotta have one friend here.” Nanue urged. “Someone. Anyone. There’s no way every human in that building’s been so blindsided by Blood that they ignore how badly you’re treated.”
“...When you bleed in the ocean, fish don’t stop to ask if you’re okay.” Elliot sighed, shrugging. “Sharks come running, instead.”
Elliot let out another tiny sob, biting down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Anything to keep from crying. He can’t cry- not here, not now.
He banged the back of his head against the wall, glaring out stubbornly at the view of the ocean- vast and empty and dark.
“...It’s my birthday, you know.” Elliot whispered, hoarse and quiet. “It’s my
birthday,
and it something that’s supposed to be celebrated- everyone else celebrates theirs. But it just feels like another anniversary to me.” He laughed hysterically, nothing present behind his eyes. “9 years of surviving. 9 years of managing to be a blight to the earth without getting myself killed.”
“...Nine…”
Nanue breathed out like it made him sick to say the word. “...You’re- you’re only nine?”
“...I think so?” Elliot offered, shrugging again. “...I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track of time, down here. I have to guess what month it is most of the time. There’s no sun, no changing seasons. And I’m the only one willing to keep up with when my birthday passes, except that I wouldn’t be surprised if I forgot to.”
Elliot finally looked up at Nanue, and immediately felt his fingers clawing into the metal beneath him.
Nanue looked
angry.
Not at him, he didn’t think at least. Nanue was just glaring out at the ocean, but he looked
scary.
His jaw was set so hard Elliot could see the muscle bulging against the metal jaw. His face was suddenly pinched and
livid
, so different from the open, playful expression he wore minutes before.
Nanue spotted him from the corner of his eye, and Elliot realized he must’ve looked
petrified,
because Nanue took a moment to look away, taking in a deep breath before looking down at Elliot again with that open expression from before.
He was still mad. His hands were still balled up and his shoulders were tense and set, but he was trying really hard to make sure Elliot wasn’t afraid of him for it.
“...What do you want for your birthday, Elliot?” Nanue choked out. “...
We’ll
celebrate it. I can’t promise a cake or ice cream or friends, but I’m the
king
, I can get you
something.”
Elliot swallowed, his throat clicking from dryness while he glared down at the ground, wondering.
Wondering if Nanue was sent by Blood to test him. Wondering if Nanue would get angry at him if he said the wrong thing. Wondering if it was even fair of him to ask Nanue for something, when they’d just met.
“I’m…” He looked up at Nanue, who gave him a reassuring expression, trying to make him feel confident enough to ask. “...I’m…
really, really hungry.”
He whispered, like if he were too loud, Blood would come crashing through and beat him again for having the gall to ask for something he didn’t deserve.
Nanue wasn’t angry like Elliot expected him to be, but he definitely didn’t look happy. He looked Elliot up and down,
worried.
“...When was the last time you ate, little one?” He choked out, seeming fearful of the answer.
“I…” Elliot closed his eyes, trying to think, trying to think, trying to remember, but- “I- I-” but oh, his stomach hurt so much. The pain crawled up his diaphragm, clawing and biting for a way out. He was so hungry. He couldn’t think about anything else now. “I don’t know…” He whined out finally, falling into more of those disgusting little sobs from before, smothering his face in his arms and shaking his head. “I don’t know. Please don- don’t be-” Elliot heaved in a gasping breath. “Don’t be m-mad, I just- need more- n-need time to- to remem-remmmm…!”
Elliot finally opened his eyes back up, blurry and puffy, when he felt two hands gently rubbing down his arms. Light and shaking despite their texture and size, like Nanue was terrified of touching him too hard, of hurting him or breaking him somehow.
When Elliot looked up, Nanue wasn’t mad. He looked heartbroken, hiding back the same emotion Elliot felt in his own eyes, just without the crying.
“Okay, listen to me, Elliot.” The man whispered, hunched over with half of his body already back in the water, like he was terrified of Elliot sprinting off like a startled octopus, never to be seen again. “...I’m going to go for just a few minutes-” Elliot started hiccuping again, hyperventilating, he couldn’t draw enough air in his
lungs-
“But I’ll be right back, I promise!” Nanue covered quickly. “I’m gonna leave now, to fish for you. I’m gonna be gone for just a few minutes, but I’m gonna bring you back some food, okay?”
Elliot couldn’t speak through his heaving, so he settled for giving a jerky nod.
“That means you can’t
move
, okay?” Nanue urged. “Don’t move from this spot. I
promise
I’m gonna come back, okay?”
Elliot made a whining sound, shaking his head.
He
wasn’t.
Nanue was
lying to him.
No one
ever came back. No one. Everyone left and died and abandoned him and ran away and screamed-
A sharp object was being pressing into his palm.
“Look, this tooth is very special to me, okay?” Nanue whispered out. Everything was loud- too loud- until Nanue whispered again. The shark man’s rumble seemed to make everything else quiet away. “It’s the first tooth I ever lost, and I’ve kept it with me ever since. This tooth means a
lot
to me, which means I’ll
have
to come back for it, right?”
Elliot hiccuped, nodding his head.
Yeah, that made sense. Nanue might not come back for Elliot, but he’d have to come back for his tooth. It was special, even if Elliot wasn’t.
“Right.” Nanue sighed. “So, I need you to stay here and keep it safe until I come back. Can you do that?”
Elliot gave a jerky nod, his teeth clashing against each other from the motion.
“Good. You’re doing a good job, Elliot.”
A good job. You’re doing a good job Elliot. A good job.
The words rattled around in Elliot’s head like an alien sentence his brain couldn’t compute. He’d never heard that before. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Nanue dove beneath the water, sending ocean spray up into the small room and getting Elliot’s bottom half soaking wet.
Nanue would come back. He’d come back for his tooth.
The tooth helped, in a weird way. There were so many alien textures on it Elliot had never felt before. It was big, a lot bigger than Elliot’s teeth. The base was filled in holes and textures scrapes that felt nice to dig the flesh of his fingers into. The cone area was smooth and heavy, and the sides had strange indents in them, like the edge of a blade.
Elliot wondered if there was any meat or marrow left in it. He wondered if he could bite it or teethe on the flat surface and break it.
Nanue came splashing up through the porthole again, sending ocean water and ocean
animals
flying up into the little room with him. Suddenly Elliot was surrounded by all types of fish, uselessly flapping about on the ground as they fought to try and hop back into the water.
“I know it’s not much for you-” Nanue sighed, catching his breath from his hunt as he looked around the room, taking it in.. “You’ll have to find a way to cook them, maybe- this room’s metal, I might be able to start a fire without it-”
Nanue yelped in surprise as Elliot dove across the room and sank his teeth into a panicked coconut octopus, flashing wildly in different colors and patterns as it scrambled to get away.
Nanue watched in surprise as Elliot simply held it by the tentacles, thrashing his head to the side and sufficiently killing the fish, causing it to sending fall limp and drain back to one solid color.
It reminded Nanue a bit of a dog, or- well, a shark, honestly, the way that Elliot tore the animal apart with his teeth. He didn’t care for the blood that started to sink into his clothes or paint his face, tearing into the octopus’ tentacles like a child to a gummy worm, making low growling noises as he fought to disconnect the rubbery limb from the head.
“Easy-!” Nanue called, snapping to attention as Elliot made to tear into the head. He grabbed the octopus to stop Elliot, making the feral boy growl up at him and try to yank the fish back by his teeth. Suddenly Nanue was playing a dog’s tug-of-war with a starving, albeit mildly feral, child. “Easy, now.” He loosened his grip to make it clear he wasn’t going to yank it, but he wasn’t going to let go of the grip he had on the fish either. “I’m not gonna take it away from you. I’m gonna help you, okay.”
Elliot panted, heaving in a couple more breaths as he stared hard and long up at Nanue, trying to make a decision, before finally letting his jaw fall open, letting Nanue take the octopus from him.
Nanue’s heart ached at the way Elliot lunged for the fish- the disregard he had to the mess he made or the possibility of getting sick from the raw meat. Granted, maybe Elliot’s biology just allowed him to eat raw meat, like Nanue did.
Still. Elliot wasn’t a wild animal, or a dog. He was a child. A starving child, convinced he had to fight for his food.
“Look.” Nanue cooed as gently as he could manage. He ripped open the octopus’ head with ease where Elliot had struggled against the rubbery texture. He expertly plucked out a weird looking black sac, oozing with black goo, and a hard, all-bone beak. “...If you eat these, they’ll really make you sick. The ink sac is poison, and it’ll make you throw up all that good food you got from it. The beak will choke you and hurt your throat.”
Elliot was still panting and drooling, blood running down his face like a child who’d gotten too into their spaghetti, but he nodded, watching rapturously how Nanue had did it.
Nanue tossed the head back to him, and he wasted no time growling and tearing into it again.
Nanue hummed, busying himself by grabbing another fish that flopped next to him, expertly tearing it in two and starting to pick out the bones. In Elliot’s state, he doubted the boy would bother with it, and Nanue didn’t want him to hurt himself.
In moments, Nanue gently slid the fat parrotfish over to Elliot’s little circle of gore, making the boy freeze in place and stare up at him again.
Elliot awkwardly let the octopus fall from his teeth, tearing off a piece of the head he hadn’t managed to fit into his mouth yet, offering it up to Nanue.
Nanue wasn’t really one for octopus, personally. There were too rubbery and the coconut octopus had a weird citrus-y taste Nanue thought was gross.
But Elliot looked up at him like if Nanue didn’t take the meat he’d cry, so Nanue took it gratefully, popping the small chunk into his mouth. “Thank you.” He managed, biting down his reaction.
Elliot nodded simply, tearing into the fish he’d been given and growling again.
There was a vibration in Nanue’s pocket, so he scooted over to give Elliot more room to - play with his food? Fight with it? - while he dug the little waterproof phone from his pocket.
“Manta, I’m sorry, I totally forgot- I can’t make it tonight.” Nanue rushed out as soon as he answered.
“Can’t make it-?!” The man yelled out, making Nanue wince. “We’ve been planning this attack for months!”
“I’m sorry, I
can’t.”
Nanue urged. “I’ve got a…” He looked over at Elliot, who froze at the sudden attention. He was prone on his back, holding half of a pipefish down by his feet and was frozen mid-thrash trying to teethe off its head. The boy tilted his head at Nanue, stretching the fish further with him. “...Kid?” Nanue offered lamely. As soon as Nanue’s gaze was gone he heard the telltale growling of Elliot going back to maiming his food.
“
Kid?!”
Manta shrieked. “Who in their right minds would
procreate
with you?! Was it Frost-?!
Oh my gods it was Frost wasn’t it.
Hang on, hang on, I have to text Waylon. I owe him money now.”
“No, no- it’s not like that!” Nanue growled at him. “Well, I mean-” He thought back to Elliot’s method of clumsily trying to decapitate the octopus. It was fairly similar to Nanue’s method, when he was a child. “I don’t know that it’s
not,
not like that…”
“
Nanue.”
The man bit.
“Look, I’m halfway across the reef right now. I’m not gonna make it.” He said sternly.
“This kid better be something special, fish man.” Manta spat. “What are we supposed to do now? What am
I
supposed to do now?! This is the
last time
I team up with
you
, you irresponsible excuse for a-!”
“He’s really mad.” Elliot whispered, standing up on his tip toes to try and see over Nanue’s shoulder. He bit his lip and looked down at the ground. “Did I get you in trouble?”
“Oh, no, I’m not in trouble.” Nanue whispered back, putting a hand over the speaker of the phone. “Ol’ Manta yells at me like this all the time, but he’s always fine by the end of the day. He just likes to hear himself talk.”
Elliot nodded, seeming to take in this information for a moment before proudly presenting a surprisingly still flopping lionfish to Nanue. “I’ve never seen a fish like this before. Can you help me take the bad stuff out?”
“Sure.” Nanue chuckled, “C’mere, sit and watch so
you
can do it next time you find one.” Nanue scooped him up effortlessly, a worry in the back of his head over how light Elliot was, before setting him on his lap, wrapping his arm around Elliot’s middle before tucking the phone back into his ear and setting to work on the lionfish.
“
And another thing-!”
Manta yelled out proudly.
“Uh-huh.” Nanue sighed out. “Look, do you want to reschedule the attack or not? Do you know of any other big shark-people that can manage to bite through Atlantis’ metal ships?”
He heard some grumbling in answer as he handed Elliot the lionfish, expecting the boy to take off with the food again, only for him to settle back against Nanue’s front, lowly growling and wholly focused on his food.
“Fine, fine.” Manta dramatically sighed. “We’ll reschedule. But we’ll have to completely re-up the logistics now.”
Nanue rolled his eyes as Manta went into more of his rambling, busying his hands with deboning more fish and setting them into a little pile for Elliot to grab from while he noncommittally hummed and agreed to things.
By the end of things, they’d finally managed to reschedule to the 20th of the next month, with only minimal bitching from Manta’s side. The air the man kept in him to just
keep talking
was astounding to Nanue. A miracle of nature, that the man could talk for so long without needing to breathe. Truly a show of science.
When Nanue was finally permitted to hang up, gently bumping the back of his head against the wall and tiredly sighing, he finally noticed how limp Elliot had gone beneath him.
Somewhere in their conversation, Elliot had managed to fall asleep, limp and curled around a headless albacore tuna bigger than he was. He sporadically teethed and light thrashed in his sleep, part of the tuna’s meat still caught in his mouth. He made off handed growls when he thrashed, kicking at the air at times.
Nanue yawned, finally standing up and gently tucking Elliot into his arm as if he were a baby.
Despite the gore and blood and feral way he played with his food, he was, after all, a child.
He reminded Nanue too much of himself. Nanue, motherless, fatherless, floating about the ocean as a freak of nature, struggling to tear the heads off of lionfish and playing with his food when he caught it.
Nanue who didn’t have anyone to fish for him. Who didn’t have anyone to teach him not to eat the ink sacs, or how to debone the tuna.
He set Elliot down in the cramped vent he’d come through to begin with, watching him curl up with his prey like a toddler with a teddy bear. Nanue wished he could do more- bring Elliot to a bed, a blanket, heat- but there was no way he was fitting through that entryway.
Instead, he stopped for a moment to watch the rise and falls of Elliot’s chest as he slept, chuckling at the odd kick and sporadic thrash he’d give. He pulled the tooth out from his pocket once more, tucking it neatly into Elliot’s, before patting the boy once on his head, and once on the tuft of his tail.
The boy didn’t flinch this time.
Nanue turned to take a large white bucket from the corner of the room- some supplies left here when the room was still being constructed and worked on, he was sure. Nanue filled the bucket up with water, tossing in any fish left that Elliot hadn’t torn into. This way at least they’d be kept alive until Elliot needed them again, on the off chance Blood starved him again before Nanue could make it back.
He clicked his teeth angrily, looking away from the fish.
Starving them.
No, not them.
Elliot.
Starving
Elliot,
because he was the odd one out, the weak link, the
runt.
Strong as he was now, Nanue knew what being the runt of a litter meant.
He gave Elliot one last glance, wincing as he watched the boy shiver and curl closer to the fish in search of warmth.
He gently fell back into the porthole, floating down into the ocean. If he didn’t head back now, Manta would have his head.