Ocean Kisses

Trapped

Tango pov

I woke up slowly, disoriented at first by the strange warmth surrounding me. The weight of bodies pressed against me, but it wasn’t just Skizz and Impulse this time—it was Zedaph, too, somehow managing to make his way closer in the middle of the night.

I had expected to be trapped by Impulse and Skizz, sure, but this... this was something else entirely. Zedaph, the sweet and shy hybrid I’d met in the wreckage, had somehow switched places with Impulse. Zed was now practically glued to my side, his body heat radiating against mine. Impulse, on the other hand, was still pretty close but not quite as intense. He had shifted to my other side, keeping a bit of distance but making sure to still take warmth from my tail.

I sighed softly, trying not to laugh at the situation. The three of them had managed to form some kind of human blanket, each of them nestling into me in their own way. And then, there was Skizz.

Skizz’s wing was still wrapped around all of us like a comforter, keeping us cozy in the midst of the night. His hand was pressed lightly near my face, so close that I could feel the warmth from his fingers. And me, being me, decided that was the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

With a wicked grin, I licked his hand, the surprise making me chuckle softly as I felt him stiffen beside me. Sure enough, Skizz startled awake with a confused noise, trying to pull his hand back, his eyes wide open.

“What the heck—?” he muttered, clearly caught off guard by the sudden, unexpected contact.

I barely suppressed my laughter, watching him squirm. "What? I was just making sure you were awake."

Impulse and Zedaph stirred a little too, but it was clear they were too content in their cuddle pile to do anything other than shift closer, burying themselves in blankets and warmth.

Skizz grumbled and huffed, giving me an exaggerated pout. "That's one way to get my attention, I guess," he grumbled, but I could tell he wasn’t actually mad—just caught off guard.

I just smirked, "Hey, you were in my personal space, what else was I supposed to do?"

And just like that, we all settled back in, the warmth of the pile and the soft, rhythmic sound of our breathing lulling me back to sleep, with Skizz’s wing draped over us and the peace of being surrounded by the people who mattered most.

I figured there was no way I could get up and leave, not with both of them so close to me, especially with their anxiety. Honestly, I wasn’t much better. The idea of leaving them, of going back to the daily grind, felt like an impossible task. Surviving a plane crash had shaken me to the core, and I knew it wasn’t just about physical recovery—it was the mental weight, the trauma, everything that came with surviving something like that.

So, I did what made the most sense to me in that moment. I called off work for the next few weeks, explaining that I needed time for therapy and just to process everything. There was no way I could jump back into my usual routine without addressing what had happened to me. I needed to make sure I was stable, and Zed... well, Zed needed a lot of help adjusting. Above water, everything was so different for him. I wasn’t just worried about myself—I had a responsibility to help him adapt to this new world, too.

Zed had grown up with the ocean, and everything above the surface was so foreign to him. The noises, the smells, the overwhelming sights... I could see how much it affected him, how the simplest things seemed so new and scary. I couldn’t just throw him into this new world without easing him in, without making sure he felt safe and comfortable.

As much as I wanted to go back to normal, to be out in the world again, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t leave him like that, not while he was still adjusting to everything. And, truth be told, I didn’t want to. I felt a responsibility to him, not just as a friend but as someone who had been through something unimaginable with me. We were both dealing with the aftermath of that crash in our own ways, and it was going to take time. Time for both of us to heal, time to help Zed fit in with this new life, and time to find our footing again in a world that felt both familiar and completely new.

The weeks that followed were full of patience, therapy sessions, and endless moments of helping Zed get used to his new surroundings. I took things slow—introducing him to small tasks, like going outside for a walk, or teaching him about simple things we took for granted. I had to explain the way the world worked on land, the systems we relied on, the oddities of modern life. Zed had a lot of questions, and honestly, I was happy to answer them, even if I had to break things down in a way he could understand.

It wasn’t easy, for either of us, but it felt right. Slowly, Zed started to adapt, just like I was, and we were both healing together—step by step.

My tail wrapped around Impulse instinctively, trapping him in place. He was the most free out of us all, always moving, always ready to go, but in that moment, I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want either of them to leave. Maybe it was just my anxiety spiking, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if they left, something would fall apart. I hadn’t realized how badly it had spiked until Skizz’s hand brushed through my hair, sending a jolt through me. I jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, but it was gentle, soothing.

Skizz, still half asleep, murmured something that settled me, something that calmed the storm raging inside my mind. His words were soft, and I could hear the warmth in his voice, even in the early morning haze.

“You’re still alive, Top. You’re still safe. You’re home. I’m so happy you’re home.”

His words settled over me like a warm blanket, and for a moment, I could breathe again. I didn’t have to worry about everything spiraling. They were both there, with me, and that’s all that mattered. My anxiety still hummed in the background, but with Skizz’s words, with the warmth of everyone around me, I could at least find a little peace. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t in danger. I was home.

Even if my mind still buzzed with fear, the physical comfort of being close to them, of having them close to me, was enough to remind me that I could face whatever came next. We could all face it together.