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You lean back against your somewhat shoddy couch and close your eyes. Work at the Corp. had been grueling, though much more stable and safe than had you continued whaling with her. Your teeth itch at the mere memory of that person. How she had broken you down to bits during the years on the Lake with her still stays in the way you almost flinch at the sight of an old woman in green, or the scent of her blasted tobacco wafting around on the street you take home. She is long dead, you comfort yourself. It has been much longer than normal since the ship had docked for supplies, more than enough for you to assume her dead. You flip in your seat. And again. And another time. You feel uncharacteristically anxious this specific day for no good reason at all.

Silence is comforting for your riled up nerves, at least. Nothing is better than being unable to hear the sound of the choppy waves lapping at the sides of the ship and the constant sway of it. You squeeze your eyes close and wait for the usual sleepiness to settle in… Nothing. No dreamless sleep nor even a nightmare decided to grace you. You look up at the clock, only to see barely ten minutes have passed. Groaning into the fabric of the couch, you force yourself to sit up from your comfortable seat to get some kind of warm drink to lull yourself to sleep. There should still be milk in your fridge. At least you hope so.

Goodness gracious. You stand before your fridge, the dim light feels particularly mocking with the sheer emptiness of the milk bottle in your hand. Great. You must have forgotten to get more groceries due to how busy the work is as a Wing employee.

Your pain is cut short when there is a knock at the door. Question marks fill your mind as it is so late at night you are sure no one sane will be wandering about… except for one. You shake your head to dispel the image that continues to haunt you even several years after you left the fleet. You force your hand down away from your mouth to avoid chewing on your nails. The knocking remains stable, occasionally taking breaks in the middle. The rhythm is stable, unlike the increasing heart rate inside your chest. Eventually, you manage to have your hand on the cold metal handle…

Ahab stares into the void as she mumbles incomprehensible words. No. No no no no no. She refuses to believe that Ishmael had stolen her kill, that the harpoon in her hand had gone through the Pallid Whale's heart and not hers. She had yelled until her throat was hoarse with no one to reply to her. Who is she without the obsessive chase for the Whale? The Whale is just as much her as it is her enemy, and now that it had died, not by her hand but Ishmael's, what does she even have left? She barks out orders for the wind to follow, to point and jeer at her pathetic form. That is until that woman come to recruit her. Hermann has oh so graciously offered for Ahab to join her voyage and what reason does she have to say no?

The first thing she decided to do, after cleaning herself off the pallidification, is to find her 'mermaid' who had escaped her grasp, you. Oh, the rare one that managed to leave with their life and not as a cold corpse nor a distorted mermaid clamoring for the Whale. She had sorely missed you during the time you were gone.

You were so obedient, almost foolishly so, so eager to follow her orders that you transformed yourself into the best second-in-command she will ever have. You broke your own bones, tore your muscles and forced yourself into the unreasonable mold that she had crafted to break you. Such a halpless fool you were. The captain clicks her tongue. She can still almost taste the putrid scent of the Lake and whatever shoddy candy you eat to keep up your energy under the strong taste of her cigar. Quite the unfortunate situation that was, with you begging to leave due to your broken heart. 'Am I not worth your attention? Am I merely a tool to you?!' You had essentially begged, thrown down your heart onto the ground for her, so like the good captain she is, she satisfied you. A pity that after a few times of such kind persuasion, her old chapped lips seem to no longer be appealing to you.

Ahab steps out of the shower kindly afforded to her by her new leash holder, taking the papers she had requested earlier already delivered to her room. The big picture of your face pasted at the very front looks borderline foreign to her. Your sharp edges had been sanded down from your posh job at the Wing, even your gaze has grown weary. The captain She sets out for your registered residence, tucked away at the edge of the inner portions of the Nest. Clearly you have moved up in life away from her.

You open the door, peeking through the small crack. Your heart stops. The world blurs out around you as you stagger backwards. No. No. No no nononono. That scarred face and disgusting smile. Your hand makes its way to your belt but you can only grasp at emptiness. Cold sweat streams down your back as you pat down your sides. The peace had softened you so much that you no longer carry your weapon on your body at all time. You used to prime your beloved weapon every single night before until your body fell prey to the calming lull of the rythmic ticking of your wall clock.

Soon, you regain your bearings and attempt to shut the door in your visitor's face, only to be stopped by her gloved hand. "Don't be so rude, sweetheart. Did the time away from the ship make you forget your manners?" You push harder but Ahab does not budge. "Why don't you invite your guest in, hm?"

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a/n: and then, they kiss :3 i wanted to somehow make it feel like the reader is still lwk yearning for ahab but i failed</3 maybe one day i will write a better version of this.. (no one mention me disappearing for the past while okey?)