Just An Ocean Apart

The Boy On the Docks

    "How are you feeling?" Victor asked, sitting next to Sherlock. When next to each other their tails contrasted a lot, Victor's was golden and bright and beautiful, while Sherlock's was black and blue, his bruise of a tail was ugly and drab and depressing. Being in Victor's presence made him feel horrible, but then again, John had said his tail was beautiful, and that was all that mattered. No matter how imperfect and unimpressive Sherlock was, John had somehow managed to fall in love with him.
"I hate this." Sherlock admitted.
"Hate what?" Victor wondered, sounding softer than usual. Maybe it was because he was drunk, maybe he was suddenly feeling the urge to care about Sherlock's problems.
"We were in love, and Mycroft ruined it. He destroyed my only chance to love another person, to be happy. And now John's wandering off to who knows were to marry some pathetic princess and he doesn't know who he's leaving behind." Sherlock groaned.
"I know it hurts Sherlock, I understand what it's like to love someone and not be noticed. But that's not your problem Sherlock, I don't want you to give up on John because of some princess, I don't want you to succumb to your brother's wishes, I don't even want you to love me back. I want you to be happy, and I know that there is only one way I can assure that you do." Victor insisted.
"How can you possibly love me?" Sherlock muttered with a little laugh.
"Obviously there have been two people who had managed it, probably more. You're abrasive, sure, and a bit stubborn, and rude, and your power kind of goes to your head..."
"You're only proving my point." Sherlock pointed out.
"I love you because you're really not like anyone else I've ever met. You pretend like you're tough, that nothing bothers you, that you feel nothing. But you have an enormous heart, and you care deeply for the ones that care for you back, and I hate to be so forward, but you're gorgeous." Victor admitted. Sherlock just laughed, shaking his head and plucking a wandering little crab off of the wall, watching as it walked around in his palm and snapped its little pinchers.
"Well, thank you very much." He muttered, honestly flattered that Victor could see the good in him even though Sherlock was so mean.
"I think John will be lucky to have you, and I hope you can get your boy made of sunshine." Victor decided.
"I hope so too." Sherlock agreed, placing the crab on the ground and watching him scuttle away into some seaweed growing along the edge of the wall. There was some silence, very awkward silence to be honest, where they didn't talk to each other much. The only sounds were their tails scraping up the dirt in the alley, and the talking of the crowds outside, dwindling more and more until Sherlock was sure most of the commoners were all gone. The ones that were still sticking around were either passed out on the sidewalk or too drunk to process what they might think they were seeing.
"I think it's clear." Sherlock muttered. Victor nodded, swimming up and stretching his tail, ready for a quick swim to the surface.
"Alright then, what's the plan?" he wondered. Sherlock shrugged, looking around the alleyway and spotting two rather large rocks, discarded off of the sidewalks apparently. He picked them up and handed one to Victor, who lifted it with ease and smiled a little bit.
"You want me to destroy a human ship with a bit of rock?" he asked. Sherlock shrugged, not seeing any other plan.
"It's not like we have anything else. Besides, it can't be too difficult, right?" he asked. Victor just stared at him in amusement, a small smile on his lips.
"I really underestimated you Sherlock Holmes." He muttered. Sherlock held his chunk of rock, speckled with broken shells and little pebbles, and nodded.
"A lot of people do. I suppose I should prove them wrong one day." he decided, and with that he started to swim up, kicking his tail with all his might and heaving himself and his rock to the surface, where the ship was still there, casting a massive shadow on his life, on his home, on all of his hopes and dreams. He could only hope that what he was doing would make it move. Victor was following close behind, Sherlock had given him a bigger rock but he seemed to be handling it just fine, swimming up next to Sherlock as the two headed for the surface. For the second time in just a day, Sherlock was going back home. The water got lighter and he could see the stars, those beautiful speckles of light, freckling the night sky. This was something he had never seen in the water, one of nature's beauties that was shrouded by the water, hidden from the merpeople. Suddenly Sherlock's head broke surface, just a little ways from the boat, treading water and breathing in the cool night air, the slight mist clinging to the warm ocean water spraying his face. Victor's head popped up right next to his, looking around in amazement.
"What are those, in the sky?" he wondered, his wet hair clinging to his face as he leaned back to see the stars.
"John called them stars." Sherlock muttered, gazing up at the beautiful night sky, at the moon, shining the soft, cold light over the land.
"What are they, just lights?" Victor wondered.
"I don't know. I can ask him when I see him again." Sherlock decided. Victor looked over at him in pity, and Sherlock looked back in confusion.
"I am going to see him again." Sherlock clarified.
"I hope you do." Victor agreed, but he still didn't look convinced. "The world looks so different by nightfall."
"There's a lot of world out there; it's a shame Mycroft wants to stay in the ugliest part." Sherlock grumbled. With that he started to swim towards the boat, which was bobbling peacefully in the waves, its dark wood shadowed by the pale light the moon provided. The sails were down, the masts empty, not a human in sight. Then again, the ship was the only thing Sherlock could see, there was no telling who was on the docks. When they got closer Victor started to drop back under water, and Sherlock followed suit. He was right though, they better not start a mass panic above water, if they attacked from below the sound wouldn't carry as much. That way the humans didn't come out just in time to see two retreating merman tails.
"So, you ready?" Victor muttered. Sherlock nodded, swimming up to the ship and heaving his rock up.
"I hope this works." He muttered, and with that he slammed his rock into the wooden hull. It sounded like a good idea, it really had, but as he actually tried to destroy the ship, he realized how stupid he really was. The rock chipped the wood a little bit, but after carving away for a little bit Sherlock realized that there was no way he was going to break through, the wood was tough and thick, and his hands were scraped and his muscles were burning. Victor had taken three powerful swings and his rock and snapped in two, falling back to their coral world below. Sherlock groaned, slamming the rock into the ship once more and creating a low thunking sound, little chips falling off very disappointingly.
"Sherlock, I don't think this is working." Victor admitted, examining what little work he had managed to do and picking splinters from the ship.
"No, it has to work, what choice do I have?" Sherlock growled, slamming the rock into the ship once more and crying out in pain as the skin from his fingers shaved off even more.
"Sherlock, we'll find another way, we're not doing anything here." Victor insisted.
"It has to work, I HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE!" Sherlock screamed, throwing his rock as hard as he could into the ship. All it did was bounce off, making a little chip in the paint before it sank below. Sherlock screamed in defeat, trying to punch the ship, to smack it with his tail, trying to let all of the rage pour out of him through his fists when in reality all that was pouring out was his blood, the scarlet dripping from the wounds on his knuckles and scattering among the dark ocean water.
"Sherlock, stop, it's alright..." Victor assured. Sherlock just smacked the ship again, trying his best to break through the wood, it was his only chance, he had to get John back, he simply had to! Victor lunged at him, grabbing both of Sherlock's hands and pulling him away from the ship so that he couldn't lash out once more. Sherlock struggled against Victor's tight grip but he knew there was nothing he could do, no matter how much tail slapping, rage screaming and bloody punching he would do, that ship wasn't going anywhere.
"I have to get to him Victor." Sherlock whispered. "I have to."
"I know, we'll get him, it'll be alright." Victor assured. Sherlock felt tears dripping down his face, but thankfully they were underwater so Victor couldn't tell when he blinked them away. No one could tell when you were crying underwater, that might be why everyone was so sad. Sherlock pulled his hands away and floated towards the docks, around the hull and near the wooden columns holding it up. That dock that had started so much. But suddenly there was a ripple in the water, above Sherlock, a finger, a human finger, was dipping in the water and creating wide circles, stretching out through the ocean like sonic waves. Sherlock swam farther up and watched as the human dipped their finger in the water again and again, and suddenly he could make out a figure, just above the waves, a very watery image of a boy, a boy with golden hair, leaning over the docks. Sherlock felt more tears leak out of his eyes as he realized he was staring at John, his own John, through the thin barrier that was the ocean. There was no way he could break that barrier, there was no way he could let John see him, the difference between water and air was the only thing keeping them apart. Sherlock swam even farther up, reaching towards John's finger, which was hovering just above the waves, his own fingers stretching towards John's hand, knowing that the moment he broke through the water was the moment he broke every promise and every wall anyone had ever made. Maybe John thought Sherlock was his own reflection in the water, maybe he was too transfixed with the ripples he was making or maybe he couldn't even see Sherlock, either way John didn't move, he didn't react, his distorted figure kneeled almost motionless on the docks, and as Sherlock reached for his finger he knew that no matter how tried he would never reach far enough.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" yelled an angry voice behind him. Sherlock pulled his hand away quickly, expecting to see Victor swimming angrily over. Instead though, he saw something much worse; his brother.
"Mycroft, I can explain, I was just..." Sherlock started, but Mycroft didn't give Sherlock time to explain anything, even though it was exactly what it looked like. He grabbed Sherlock's tail and yanked him down painfully, pulling Sherlock away from the surface and deeper into the water.
"You traitorous tuna, what do you think you were doing?" he growled, his ugly face contorted into a look of pure loathing.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was just..." Sherlock started.
"It was my fault, your majesty I'm sorry." Victor muttered, coming out from the shadows of the ship and into the light. Mycroft's face softened into a look of confusion, but he still looked angry, very, very angry.
"You brought him out here?" Mycroft muttered. Sherlock wiggled from his grasp and swam over to Victor, hiding behind his pretty golden tail.
"I did, I'm sorry." Victor muttered. Sherlock tried his best not to look confused, to look innocent, when in reality he was shocked to hear what Victor was claiming. This hadn't been his idea at all; this was all Sherlock's plan, so why was he taking the fall for it?
"You were supposed to watch over him, to protect him, why did you defy my orders and bring him here?" Mycroft growled. Victor sighed, swimming a little bit closer to Sherlock so that he could prevent any sudden attacks from Mycroft. How could someone so idiotic possibly be this loyal and protective? Maybe there was a side to Victor that Sherlock hadn't realized before.
"The humans, they fascinated me. I wanted to know how they got such a massive structure to float, or how they managed to get anywhere on those sticks they call legs, and I knew that there was only one person down here that knew the land. I knew that Sherlock could take me to the surface." Victor muttered. "I'm very sorry my lord." Mycroft stared at the two of them for a moment, obviously very confused, his brown eyes squinted as he tried to process all that was happening.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves, both of you! Humans are dangerous, humans are ruthless and most importantly they're blood thirsty. They're in the dark about our existence but it takes two moronic manatees to go poking around on shore for them to put us in a cage and display us like a zoo animal. Sherlock, your obsession with these beasts has spread to even my most loyal subjects." Mycroft snapped.
"Not all humans are bad Mycroft, they're actually really nice!" Sherlock defended.
"They were only nice to you because you were one of them, you were normal. I'm sure that all of your human 'friends' would never accept you as who you were." Mycroft insisted.
"John did." Sherlock snapped.
"John doesn't remember you Sherlock; he would cage you and kill you now, so stay away from him." Mycroft pointed out.
"He would never kill me!" Sherlock cried, swimming closer in defense of his love. John was probably still sitting on the dock, not twenty feet above them, unaware of the argument going on below.
"He doesn't love you anymore, he wouldn't even recognize you, he'd have no remorse!" Mycroft growled.
"He's up there right now, how about we go ask him!" Sherlock insisted, jabbing one of his fingers up at the surface in case Mycroft was direction impaired.
"Come with me, both of you, punishments are in order." Mycroft decided.
"Mycroft he's going to marry someone else, he's taking that ship and he's getting a princess!" Sherlock exclaimed, not moving as Mycroft started to swim away. His brother stopped, turning a little bit and looking up at the ship in wonder. For a moment Sherlock thought that he might do something, that he might possibly show some remorse, but he nodded, looking satisfied.
"Good. Then you might possibly get over this unhealthy obsession." He muttered, and turned away and started swimming down to the sea floor. Sherlock was fuming with rage, so angry he was surprised the water wasn't boiling around him. Victor swam solemnly down, not saying a word as he passed Sherlock, who was still motionless. He gazed once more at where the dock should be, but he couldn't make out any shapes, he couldn't see if John was still sitting there or if he had gone into his castle once more. Sherlock wondered if Mycroft would ever let him see the shore again.
"Sherlock come!" Mycroft yelled from a ways away, and Sherlock had no choice but to start to swim back down, back to the home that felt more like a prison.