" The Boss .. " - A Shark Tale Story ( Mr Sykes x Don Lino )

Caught in the Undertow

The journey through the dark waters was both disorienting and terrifying for Sykes. Bound tightly in kelp, he struggled against the restraints, his efforts futile against the strength of the bindings. The barracuda and his gang, maneuvering with practiced ease, guided him through the oppressive darkness of the deep ocean. The pressure of the water seemed to close in around him, amplifying his sense of dread. Every movement was weighed down by the chilling realization that his current predicament was a direct result of his fractured relationship with Lino.

"So, what's the deal with you and Don Lino?" the barracuda asked, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. His menacing grin was barely visible in the low light, but Sykes could feel the malice behind it. "You're quite the catch, aren't you? We've heard some intriguing things about you."

Sykes kept his gaze fixed on the dark expanse ahead, unwilling to engage with the barracuda's taunts. The mention of his private affairs made him feel even more exposed, as if his personal life was being put on display for their amusement. 

"Why don't you just keep your distance?" Sykes snapped, trying to mask his discomfort. "I'm not in the mood for small talk."

The barracuda chuckled darkly. "Oh, come on now. I'm just curious. I hear you're Don Lino's favorite. That's quite a feat, considering how he usually deals with those who cross him. What's your secret? And why do you think he keeps you around?"

The mention of Lino twisted Sykes' insides, and he couldn't hide the pained expression on his face. "Maybe I'm just a convenient distraction," he muttered bitterly. "It's not like I matter in the grand scheme of things."

"You should be flattered," the barracuda continued, his tone growing darker. "Most who cross paths with Lino end up as shark bait. But you? You're different. And I have a feeling that's exactly why our boss wants a word with you." The barracuda's eyes narrowed, and he glanced over his shoulder as if expecting someone.

"Who is this boss of yours?" Sykes asked, trying to piece together the fragments of the conversation. "And why does she want me?"

"You'll find out soon enough," the barracuda replied with a smirk. "She's not someone you want to disappoint. And believe me, you're going to have a lot to explain."

Hours dragged by in oppressive silence as they traveled through the dark waters. The only sounds were the distant calls of ocean creatures and the faint echoes of their movement. The water grew colder and darker, a stark contrast to the vibrant reef Sykes had left behind. Finally, they arrived at a concealed entrance, obscured by thick seaweed and algae. The barracuda led the way, his gang following closely behind. They dragged Sykes into a cavernous hideout, its rough walls illuminated only by the eerie glow of bioluminescent algae.

The barracuda shoved Sykes into a small, damp cell, locking the door with a heavy clang. "I'll leave you to think about your situation," he said coldly. "I'm sure our boss will be along shortly."

Sykes slumped against the rough stone wall, the weight of his predicament sinking in. "What's going to happen to me?" he called out, but the barracuda was already swimming away, his laughter echoing through the cavern.

Sykes sat on the cold floor, facing the rocky wall. The darkness pressed in from all sides, the only light coming from a flickering torch just outside his cell.

 "Maybe he was right," Sykes whispered to himself, the bitterness of his thoughts cutting through the silence. "Maybe I'm not meant to be part of his world. Maybe this is where I'm supposed to be—alone."

He was in love with Lino, and that was the root of it all. He had tried to fight it, tried to ignore it, but there was no denying it anymore. And the worst part? Lino couldn't—or wouldn't—love him back in the same way.

"I can't ever be gay," Lino had said, his voice hard and defensive.

Sykes shook his head, trying to banish the thought. He had left the reef to get away from this, but now it was all crashing back, worse than before. And here he was, bound and helpless, his life hanging in the balance, all because of a love that could never be.

But as much as he tried to plot an escape, his thoughts kept drifting back to Lino. What are we, really? He had poured his heart out, told Lino he loved him, only to be rejected—not by words alone, but by the deep-seated shame in Lino's voice. The homophobia Lino struggled with had been a slap to the face, a barrier that Sykes didn't know how to break through.

"I'm not gay." , The words echoed in his mind. 

Then what the hell was all of that? What have we been doing all these months, pretending it didn't mean something? 

The tension between them had built into something undeniable, something real, and yet Lino had slammed the door on it, choosing pride and confusion over honesty.

"What am I to him?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Am I just a toy? A distraction? 

He thought about Lino's face during their argument, the raw emotion, the way Lino had almost said something—something that Sykes hadn't quite caught.

"He can't be in love with me," Sykes whispered bitterly, hugging himself against the cold. 

Not if he still clings to Elena's ghost. Not if he can't even admit what we are.

The cell door creaked open, and the barracuda stepped inside, accompanied by someone Sykes couldn't see. The barracuda's voice was cold and commanding as he spoke to the new arrival. "He's all yours. I've got other business to attend to."

Sykes turned his head slightly, curiosity piqued by the new arrival's presence. The voice that followed was smooth, commanding, and filled with a hint of irony. "So, you're the one who's been making waves," the voice said, causing Sykes' heart to skip a beat.

Sykes strained to see the figure in the dim light from the torch. As the figure moved closer, the light revealed a face that made Sykes' breath catch in his throat.

 Elena.

She looked just as he remembered her from the photos and stories, but it couldn't be her—she was dead. He had seen her body and mourned her loss. This had to be a cruel trick or a figment of his imagination.

"Elena?" Sykes croaked, disbelief coating his voice. "It can't be... you're dead. I saw you."