The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (boyxboy)

CHAPTER 12

The Merry | Present Day

Az sits with that feeling for hours. He debates for only a short while on whether or not to tell Slade what happened before settling on telling him nothing.

Of the things the siren made him feel, that molten rage was the strongest by far. But the others tickle at the back of his mind. Fear and pain. It's hurting physically, of course it is, and having felt it, Az can't stop feeling it too. Now that he knows it, he's sure if he goes back in there and reaches out with his own frail magic, he'll be able to feel it again.

Its blatant refusal to even acknowledge him, he eventually deduces, is because it's scared. Which is the most obvious thing in the world. And suddenly Az can only liken it more to a frightened animal than a crafty predator.

If he tells Slade, it will be punished for breaking the rules. And if it's hurt because of Az, he'll never get it to trust him. Not to mention what will happen to Az if he admits defeat.

Az's first time stealing, he'd spent at least a couple of hours hiding in wait, just trying to work up the courage. Every time he'd get a burst of daring, a stronger flush of panic would surge down into his feet and glue him to the spot. His heart would race, his throat would close up, and he'd stay there terrified of what he'd almost done. Convincing himself now to go back to the siren feels like that.

He brings in a glowing lantern with him. The dull light still manages to reflect off the siren's tail, which is now stretched out over the rim of the tub again. Golden scales sparkle even in the gloom. Az is struck with the imagined vision of what that would look like in the sun with water glistening over the top, then immediately wonders if the siren will ever see the sun again.

Pushing that thought down, he studies the siren's still bloodied face. It's long dried, now flaky and dark. He chews the inside of his cheek. Does he dare take a chance?

He has nothing to lose. It's the siren or Paver.

"We should get you cleaned up."

The siren's eyes shoot open. Glowering rage almost makes him back up a step. It's like he doesn't have the right to even speak in its company. Was it the wording? He thought a slightly firmer approach might work in his favour, but with the way the yellow of the siren's eyes pulses, he feels he's made a mistake. Or maybe his tone. Condescending, despite his efforts to sound friendly and patient.

"The-The blood, I mean," he explains, nervous under its glare.

Like before, it doesn't grace him with a response, but it doesn't close its eyes again either. Az swallows around his dry tongue.

"You've probably never had anything stuck to your skin like this before. You know, living in the water and all. Oh, I mean, I guess you do know seeing as you...live there. Or you used to. I–" Sweat pools alarmingly quickly at the small of his back. "You'll feel better if you're clean."

The siren's brows twitch up in a moment of incredulity before dipping down into a scowl. It rolls its eyes and turns to stare at the wall instead of Az. He cringes. That was a stupid thing to say.

"I can help you," he offers, soldiering through the heavy fog in the air because at least it hasn't done...whatever it did last time. "If you want."

"If you come anywhere near me, I'll rip your skin off."

Az jumps. Its voice is firm in tone but weak in volume. But it's glaring at him again. He expected that. If it had agreed, he's not sure what he would have done.

He fumbles. "I-I was just–"

"Do not touch me. Ever."

And he's nodding, because by the gods, it's talking to him. "I won't. I'm sorry."