Anchored
Author: teaandotherstuff.tumblr.com
Recipient: nark--mutt.tumblr.com
Summary: Mermaid AU. Barbara is struggling with her life in the city and uses the beach as her only escape from the monotony of everyday life, but when Lindsay comes along, everything changes because she's unlike anyone she's ever met. The ocean becomes her sanctuary, and through the test and trials of her own life, Lindsay becomes her anchor. As Barbara hits the lowest part of her life, will Lindsay go against her gut feeling to save her, and will their bond be strong enough to pull them out of the strong that brews overhead.
Warnings: Slight threat of death, but happy ending. Bad puns.
Word Count: 7'937.
Anchored
She loved the ocean. Ever since she’d moved to Austin, the warm weather and trips to the beach were something she always looked forward to. There was something endlessly relaxing and calm about it all, and through her days in busy city life she needed that escape, like another world waiting for her to pluck her thoughts and submerge them in waves, to watch them float away from shore and be forgotten until the next tide.
Today was one of the days that she needed to escape, and sitting among a collection of rocks almost forming a cave in a forgotten part of the beach, she let the tears fall from her eyes and let her thoughts fall overboard, drifting away with the gentle rhythm of the tide.
She concentrated only on the warm path of tears across her face and the water surrounding her feet, she concentrated and the sun setting down into what seemed to be the depths of the ocean, and the gentle, night-time breeze that was on the brink of being too cold, but was keeping her mind clear all the same. Besides, she was used to a far colder climate than this. But she didn’t notice the small splash of water just a few feet away. The sound blended into the scene, the rocks dotting the shoreline, the odd swirl of water where fish were feeding or fighting, Barbara never had a second thought about it.
The girl sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes and fiddling with the smooth stones in her hand, dropping them to the floor and giving up with the idea of skipping stones. She just wanted to sit and forget about her career, her friends, family, her relationship, well, failed relationship. Barbara didn’t need to skip stones to achieve that.
She listened to the water, and finally that unusual splashing resonated once again, this time closer, and the girl looked up, wiping a stray tear and furrowing her brow. The sea wasn’t that rough...it was fairly peaceful. Maybe it was a stray piece of debris, washed up and battling against the rocks as the ride pushed up against it? But it didn’t seem so aimless. It almost sounded purposeful. Barbara’s stomach dropped as she wondered if someone had found her hiding place at the far corner of the beach, and she wiped her eyes and sniffed to rid any evidence of crying incase someone found her.
Pushing away her hesitance, she awkwardly called out to see what was making the noise.
“Um, hello?”
There was a sudden splash, like a rock being quickly submerged underwear and then silence. Barbara’s heart began to race. What the hell was that noise? She shifted on the almost flat rock she’d been sat on, slowly coming to her feet and clutching her shoes in one hand, making her way around the rocks in ankle-deep water, but she couldn’t see much. It had gotten a lot darker than when she’d arrived. She stopped for a moment, resting her shoes precariously on a rock and digging around in her jacket pocket for a small, handheld torch she’d bought at a gas station once, pressing down on a button and watching as a stream of light erupted amongst the darkness. It shone and shimmered across the shallow water, and all too soon that almost frightened splash of water filled her ears, but this time she could pin it down. It was further out, where the water gradually got deeper. Against her better judgement, she picked up her shoes in one hand and kept the torch on her feet, advancing on the deeper end of the ocean, occasionally standing on a rather slippery rock submerged in water, and cursing as her shoes nearly dropped out of her hand twice.
Soon enough, there were no rocks surrounding her and the water was now half way up her shins, threatening to soak her jeans which had taken her far too long to attempt to roll up, and were now slipping back down, stretched and probably ruined, but she didn’t care.
Barbara took the torch and watched as it danced over the gentle waves, but she couldn’t see even remotely under the surface, and chose not to go any further. She looked around, trying to spot any rubbish in the water or even an active school of fish somewhere, but she was met with nothing. She sighed, suddenly feeling very tired as her worries began to wash back onto shore again, the odd noises giving her nothing to concentrate on anymore.
Just as she was about to turn and head back to try and catch a taxi, she heard a small splash. Almost annoyed, Barbara swung herself around, torch pinned in the spot where the noise had been.
“Who the hell is it?” She asked, and then froze.
Her eyes were pinned onto two wide, brown ones, staring up at her from the water like a rabbit caught in the headlights. There was a fraction of silence as Barbara stared down at the girl floating in the water just a few feet away. She was pretty, with an oddly curious stare, dark hair damp and cradling her features. Barbara felt her stomach flip and tried to will away the heat rising to her cheeks. In a split second of catching the other girl’s gaze, every thought, every worry seemed to vanish. Not just fade away for a short period of time, but disappear completely.
Barbara found that she didn’t know what to say or do, and apparently neither did the other girl.
But eventually Barbara found her voice, and after clearing her throat and watching as the other girl dipped lower in the water, almost out of fear, she spoke up.
“Um...are you okay? It’s a little bit late to be swimming, right?” She said, laughing quietly at the end and smiling. The brunette stayed quiet and looked around almost nervously, and Barbara began to get worried. They were acting more than a little strange, and by the sound of things this girl had been following and watching her for a fair while.
“Did you hear me?” Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a step forward, but the second she moved it was clear she’d made a mistake. The girl’s eyes widened and she disappeared into the water with lightning reflexes, but that wasn’t what made Barbara let out a small scream. Just a moment after the girl disappeared beneath the water, she was met with the sight of fins flicking up out of the water before vanishing altogether, plunging into the darkness and out of sight with ripples in the water the only sign that anyone had been there at all. Barbara stumbled back with a yelp, only just managing to keep steady on the rock behind her, but her sneakers fell into the water and slowly drifted to the shallow sea floor.
Barbara’s breath was coming out in ragged gasps, and she quickly got her senses back and shone the torch across the ocean in jerky movements. But she found nothing. Nothing but inky black waves shimmering under the light of the torch. She could feel her heart hammering against her chest, and without even thinking she dunked her hand into the water and retrieved her sodden shoes, darting away from her reclusive spot on the beach, and for the first time since living in Austin, wanting to get as far away from the place as possible.
…
Barbara was quiet at work the next day. She sat quietly in her office, filing papers and phoning clients but never really paying attention. Her thoughts were elsewhere, miles away where the ocean was and an array of rocks dotted the forgotten end of the shoreline. Her thoughts were not filled with the stress and strain of work, the painful emotions of her break-up, nor the messages from her friends asking if she wanted to go out that night. None of it seemed important. But the girl. The girl was there, filling every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for her daily work.
She ignored the yelling from her Boss when she forgot to write letters that needing sending that day. She ignored the odd looks from her co-workers as she distantly stared out of the window. And she only seemed to become herself again when the clock hit six, and she was left to take some work home, only to be out the door a mere half hour later, mini-torch in her pocket, shorts on rather than jeans despite the night-time chill that was beginning to settle across the city. She caught a cab and made her way back to the beach, paying the driver a little extra and ignore his confused stare as she got out, instantly making her way across the sand and disappearing from sight from the lack of lighting.
She removed her shoes as she approached the rocks, putting them in a messenger bag she’d brought along and shuddering a little as the water hit her feet, carefully navigating through the shallow water she’d visited what seemed to be a million times before.
Barbara had no idea what she was even planning.
Work had been stressful and upsetting, but that wasn’t new, nor were the almost angry texts from her ex asking when they could pick up some of their belongings, there was nothing for her to escape from today because it was just so normal. But something was drawing her back.
Though she was certain that it was probably exhaustion and stress that had caused her to see what she had, she almost hoped it wasn’t like that. Something inside of her yearned for escape, some other world to drag her away from her own, and something like that...like what she saw.
Barbara took in a breath and tried to pinpoint where she had been last night, and eventually found the rock she’d fallen backwards into and lost her shoes, which were now at home on the radiator after being washed, hopefully drying.
She shone the torch across the ocean, and wasn’t surprised when she noticed nothing out of the ordinary, but was disappointed instead. Barbara sighed, running a hand through her hair and moving it out of her eyes, almost feeling upset. It was stupid...but she’d wanted something to be there. She didn’t want it to be an hallucination.
But there she was, stood in a shallow pool of water in the middle of the evening and looking out into dark water, hope crushed. Still, she could use the time wisely. There was no point going home. She’d work into the early hours and finish her paperwork, like always. Barbara’d never be able to relax if she didn’t. Her sleeping schedule was shot but it was the only way to clear her head for a few hours.
With a heavy heart, she sat down on one of the rocks, staring out into the water with visions of another girl between the waves. There was something about what she’d seen that she just couldn’t shake. Barbara sighed, feeling her eyes water a little and she lent her elbows on her thighs, covering her face and breathing deeply, willing away the apathy that she hated so much but couldn’t shake these days. Everything was just so monotonous, and now the glimpse of something unusual and strange had been prematurely crushed.
She almost gasped when she heard a small splash in the water, and her eyes darted upwards with a new light flourishing in them.
“Hello?” She called out, praying that it wasn’t just someone taking their dog out for a late night walk, or some couple trying to find privacy, thinking the whole scene was romantic. Barbara clicked her torch back on, and began wading further into the water. Praying above anything that she’d see something...wishing more than she’d ever done before to see the glimmer of bright, curious eyes, the sudden flicker of fins…
Silence overcame the scene again, but still Barbara searched among the rocks and water, the waves now lapping just above her knees, and just a few feet away, she was being watched.
Below the surface, a pair of bright eyes stared up at the slightly blurred figure, the torch occasionally coming too close and startling her, so she moved further down before coming back up. Just to watch. Just to see if she could catch a glimpse of the woman. Her hair drifted with the current, strands splayed around her head in silky tendrils, an auburn colour in the artificial light of the torch. She wanted to surface...for the human girl to notice her, but she was so scared. So very scared of the stories she’d once heard.
She watched as the girl above the surface clicked the torch off, and sat down defeatedly, and something constricted in her chest. A horrible ache. Above the gut-wrenching fear of being caught again, she moved out of the girl’s line of sight and surface as quietly as possible, the air crisp and almost sharp in her lungs, but manageable. She put her hands on the rock she was hidden behind and lifted herself up carefully so she could see the girl, and her heart melted.
She was crying. Her blonde hair was framing her face as she stared down, obscuring her features but she could hear the slight hitch in her breath. She frowned, opening her mouth but the nerves swallowed her words back up and drowned them.
She didn’t know who she was. She didn’t know a thing about this human girl. But her heart was breaking just seeing her so upset.
The brunnette plucked up her courage and swam closer to the girl, and spoke quietly.
“Why are you crying?”
Barbara jumped and looked around, but couldn’t see far.
“Who was that?” She asked quietly.
There was another silence, and Barbara wondered if she was going mad, but soon enough a voice mumbled a reply, muffled from behind her hiding spot among the rocks.
“I’m called Lindsay.”
Barbara’s eyes widened, and she stood up, trying to wade out further into the water, to be able to see something, but Lindsay was perfectly hidden.
“You shouldn’t be here so late...the tide could come in and you wouldn’t see until it was too late.” Lindsay mumbled, her voice almost meek. She heard the click of Barbara’s torch, and submerged herself a little further into the water.
“If I shouldn’t be here, neither should you.” She replied, a small smile creeping into her features. She moved the torch across the water slowly. “Hey, where are you?”
“I’m always here.” Lindsay replied, her voice getting more bold, though she avoided Barbara’s question. “Um...what’s your name?”
“Barbara.”
“Bar-ba-ra…” Lindsay replied slowly. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“You must have. It’s not that uncommon.” Barbara said, the water now creeping up to her thighs.
“I don’t talk to other human’s like you much.” Lindsay said truthfully. She’d never talked to a true human at all before. There’d been a time where you heard about their kind befriending humans almost as the norm, but soon it seemed befriending them was not enough, and horrible stories had erupted of humans trying to capture them, trying to kill them.
But somehow, Lindsay trusted this girl. There was something so captivating about her, even if she seemed so down.
“Humans like me? What’s that supposed to mean.” Barbara laughed, pushing what she’d seen the other night for something more realistic.
Lindsay realised then and there that this girl wasn’t wise to what lay beneath the surface of the ocean, and the fear began to bubble up again. Would she be scared? Would she attract others? Humans who wanted to hurt her? She’d have time to flee, surely, if something happened. The sun had set and other humans would be scarce. Slowly, Lindsay swam slowly from behind her rock, closer to Barbara but still out of reach.
“You didn’t answer my question before…” Lindsay mumbled, and Barbara wheeled round to see those curious eyes once again, and her stomach flipped once more, her torch now shining in her direction. “Why were you crying?”
Barbara was dumbstruck for a moment, realising that she wasn’t just hallucinating or going mad. She could see the girl in plain sight, submerged in water and hovering so steadily that she couldn’t understand how she was staying so still. The water wasn’t deep enough where she was to simply stand up. She couldn’t have been paddling.
“What...are you?”
Lindsay felt her face flush and she moved a little closer. Slowly, Barbara could see the intricate crimson scales adorning the girl’s arms, fading into pale skin in increasingly late shades of pink, her forearms free of any of the bright colours. Barbara’s heart was beating against her chest. She could barely understand what she was seeing and above all she was frightened. This was a something out of a children’s tale. A myth. But she couldn’t stop herself from moving forward in the water, her shorts becoming soaked, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Lindsay was glued to the spot, and flinched when Barbara held out her hand.
“Can I...see?” She asked quietly, looking at Lindsay’s scared expression, suddenly feeling quite guilty for reacting so shocked, but it was absurd. How could she not? There was this...this creature in front of her like someone plucked a myth from thin air and put it straight in front of her. Lindsay plucked up all her courage and reached out her hand to Barbara who took it gently, staring in disbelief at the light pink fins adorning the tops of her palms.
“Mermaid…” She muttered, and Lindsay suddenly squeezed her hand.
“Don’t tell anyone, please.” She asked, her voice almost panicked. “I don’t want to get hurt.”
Barbara couldn’t believe her ears, after all, it was she who was shaking, scared of being dragged under the surface of the water by this thing...by Lindsay. She nodded quickly.
“I won’t...I just...you’re not real. Surely you’re not real.” She whispered, and Lindsay felt herself relax.
“If I’m not real...then how are you holding my hand?”
Barbara’s eyes widened and she pulled away slowly, mumbling an apology.
“It’s just…this is like something out of a story. Mermaid’s are a myth...you’re a myth.” Barbara ran her hand through her hair, noticing how damp it was. Every sensation seemed to be screaming at her that she was conscious. The water extra cold against her legs, the sound of the wind and waves so loud and the Mermaid...Lindsay was in plain sight. Every sense was telling her that she awake and fully conscious.
“We’re not a myth...you just wrote stories about us and forgot over the years.” Lindsay explained, putting her hand back beneath the water, feeling oddly cold and empty. “We’re in hiding.”
“I wouldn’t call this in hiding.” Barbara said with a weak laugh, and Lindsay smiled sheepishly.
“I get curious sometimes. It gets boring down here.”
Barbara scoffed a little, almost bitterly. “You want to try being human. You’d know what boring really means then.”
Lindsay nodded slowly, clinging onto every word.
“At least you have others to talk to.”
“Why...aren’t there more of you?”
Lindsay looked confused for a moment, before shaking her head.
“Well, there are a few of us, but we don’t stick together for too long. I haven’t spoken to another of our kind in years.”
“Years?”
Lindsay nodded again.
“I guess that really is boring...even if I hate it...well, up here, I have people to talk to.”
Lindsay looked a little sad at that, and Barbara frowned.
“Well...you have me now.” She said, the words feeling slightly odd but somehow the right thing to say, and Lindsay seemed to think so too, because she smiled brightly.
“I’ve never talked to a human before, I always thought you were dangerous.”
“We are, probably.” Barbara said, and Lindsay’s eyes widened in panic, more than ready to flee. “No, not like that- sorry, I mean, people in general are kind of assholes. I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise.”
Lindsay’s expression seemed to soften at those last words, but her curious nature couldn’t stop her from asking:
“What’s an asshole?”
Barbara stared at her unblinking for a moment before bursting into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand and chuckling. For a moment, Barbara was going to try and explain before Lindsay’s features broke into a mischievous smile.
“Just kidding. I’ve learnt more than enough about humans from listening to them.”
Barbara was in a fit of giggles, but eventually sobered enough to clear her throat, and ask what she’d been meaning to since seeing Lindsay.
“Um, I’m not sure if this sounds rude or anything but, could I see, y’know-”
Without another word Lindsay nodded, almost flattered at Barbara’s interest and she leant back in the water, pushing her lower half up and revealing her tail. The caudal fin was almost transparent, a faint, pastel red colour leading into an array of crimson scales, and just like her arms, the scales grew larger but faded gradually across her pale stomach, cradling her waist. Without realising, Barbara gasped, shining her torch onto the tail and Lindsay looked worried for a moment, but the feeling soon left.
“God, that’s amazing.”
Lindsay laughed, submerging her tail beneath the waves again and practically beaming up at Barbara, who looked just as awestruck. Barbara didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay until the sun rose and then some, ask questions and realise that she really wasn’t dreaming, because it still seemed like something she’d conjure up in her sleep, but it was so late and the prospect of work was looming over her. She still had paperwork to sort, and even if she left now she might not have time. A frown riddled its way across her features and Lindsay’s smile dropped.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to go...it’s late and I have work in the morning.”
“Oh.” Lindsay said quietly. She swirled her fin in the water, almost like a person would shuffle their feet, and nodded. “Will you be back at all?”
“Of course I will!” Barbara said, almost appalled Lindsay would ask. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well you did think you were hallucinating.” She shrugged, and Barbara chuckled.
“It’s not exactly every day you meet a mermaid of all things.”
“We’re not all that interesting when you get past the fins and scales.” Lindsay chuckled, but some kind of anxiety settled behind those words.
“Don’t be silly...I’ll be back tomorrow if you’re, well, gunna be around?”
Lindsay nodded and smiled, subconsciously swimming a little closer, but soon enough Barbara had turned her back and was carefully making her way through an array of rocks and pebbles, back onto the beach. Her shorts were soaking wet and the cab driver gave her odd looks all the way home, she didn’t have time to finish her paperwork, and she woke up late the next morning.
But Barbara couldn’t recall being so happy in a long, long time.
Even if her mood would shatter into pieces the next day.
…
“You are not in any way motivated to be a part of this company, and now you’re blatantly refusing to fill in for work you chose not to do in work hours. And on top of that, you’re late.”
Barbara’s boss was furious, his cheeks were stained red with shouting and he was pacing angrily in his office whilst Barbara was sat in the guest’s chair, staring up with wide eyes and trying to hold back angry tears. She’d been fifteen minutes late. Fifteen. She’d never once been late in the years she’d worked there, never once missed out on work she didn’t have time to do in her allotted hours, and her Boss was acting as though this was a common occurrence.
“Sir, I honestly didn’t mean to miss the work. I’ll stay on unpaid overtime to get it done tonight. And I missed my train-”
“And now you come to me with excuses? Excusing the fact we now have three clients waiting for their orders, excusing the fact you’re trying to cut down your hours by claiming to be late? The biggest mistake I ever made was hiring you, Dunkelman. Collect your things and leave.”
Barbara’s stomach dropped and she stared up her Boss, mouth moving but no words coming out.
“Did you not hear me? Get out.”
“But, Sir, I really didn’t-”
“GET OUT!”
Barbara seemed to be on auto-pilot as she left, going to her computer desk and looking at the things dotted around the desk. She steadily attempted to fit her belongings into her messenger bag, leaving behind anything she didn’t particularly care about. But most of all she didn’t feel...she was numb. She’d tried so hard in the company and built her way up. Still never at the position she quite wanted...but she’d gotten somewhere, she had a decent wage and now…
Barbara felt eyes on her back as she left, dumping the paper’s she’d half-filled into a bin on her way out the door. She pressed her lips together tightly, refusing to let out any tears as she headed into the elevator. She ignored one of work colleagues asking what was wrong. One of her old work colleagues, and darted out of the lift on the ground floor. The sun was bright as she headed outside, and the street was busy. Several people bustled past her, knocking into her without so much as a backwards glance, ignoring her imminent breakdown.
She hesitated for a moment, stood among a crowd of people and feeling utterly lost. For ten minutes she attempt to hail a cab, and when she did her thoughts had cleared and home was no longer in there. The taxi drove her towards a station downtown, and she caught the next train to head towards the beach. To see Lindsay.
Even if Barbara was still convinced that it was all some strangely realistic dream, it was the only comfort she had.
…
Lindsay was at the bottom of the ocean floor just as Barbara came off the train, idly sifting through the sand in search of shells and rocks. She tried to lie and say it was some old hobby she’d had for years, a very typical hobby of her kind mind you, but in reality she was just looking for something to give to Barbara, it was almost like she should thank her for not hurting her, and there wasn’t much you could find in the ocean that had any use for a human girl.
Eventually, she came across a pearl-coloured conch shell settled against a small reef just off the shallower end of water. She picked it up and jumped slightly as a rather large crab was nestled inside, who left its home the second she disturbed him. For a moment, Lindsay felt guilty, but decided it was probably ready to find a bigger shell either way. She looked the shell over, sighing a little sadly, and began to swim closer to shore, still out of sight from the rather crowded beach but wanting to listen all the same. If anyone did see her, they’d just assume she was one of the many swimmers out that day. Lindsay attempted to distract herself with the swimmers, with the people on the beach, with the conversations she could vaguely hear, listening to it as though small talk was the more interesting thing in the world. But her thoughts kept coming back to one awful idea.
She was worried that Barbara wasn’t going to come back.
Since the minute the girl left her last night Lindsay was gut-wrenchingly frightened of the possibility that she’d scared Barbara off. She swam back to the place that Barbara always seemed to visit. It was vacant and quiet, and Lindsay swam over to a rock, resting her arms across and leaning her head on them. She felt as though she’d dozed off, because it took her a moment to realise she could hear footsteps among the pebbles and sand, and even longer to open her eyes and lift her head sharply.
Her panicked stare melted into a grin, and she perked up the second Barbara’s frame came into vision, but instead of calling for her, she disappeared under the water for a moment whilst Barbara sad down on one of the rocks. Lindsay hadn’t quite noticed just how sad she’d looked, and even as she resurfaced a few feet away, leaning back and bringing her tailfin down onto the water, she never noticed. Barbara jumped visibly and yelped as a cascade of water came down on her, and she was about to angrily curse until she saw the creature a few feet away from her, giggling cheekily.
“Not funny.” Barbara said, wiping some of the salt water from her face but struggling to confine her smile.
Lindsay shrugged and started to swim forward, movements fluid and natural, and in the sunlight Barbara could make out the true, bright colours of her scales shimmering and dancing under the clear water.
“I thought it was. How come you’re here during the day? I thought you worked.”
Barbara moved her eyes away from Lindsay’s and sighed, running a hand across her cheek and trying to keep herself together.
“I got fired.” Barbara mumbled, voice cracking a little but still keeping herself together. Lindsay’s mouth dropped a little and she stared up, brows knitting together.
“I’m sorry.” She said, swimming forwarding and ignoring that the water was becoming a little shallower than she was used to. At a loss of words, she looked at the shell she’d collected earlier and reached out, pushing it up onto the shore, just a foot or so away from Barbara’s shoes. The blonde-haired girl looked down and laughed, choking slightly before she picked up the shell.
“That’s so sweet.” She mumbled, and Lindsay’s cheeks flushed a little, matching the pink and red hues of her fins and hair, she felt a little silly, like a child offering one of their arts and craft pieces to someone they liked, but Barbara’s eyes seemed to have lightened, and Lindsay was grateful.
“There’s not many things in the ocean that humans can make use of.” She explained, laughing a little. “I wish I could help you.”
“Don’t worry about it. My Boss has always been an ass, it was only a matter of time until he found an excuse to fire me.” Barbara explained, standing up and placing the shell gently down on a rock, before attempting to roll up the black trousers she always wore to work. Not that it mattered if they got ruined now. Slowly, she began to wade out into the water, finding it relaxing. Lindsay watched carefully, noticing how much Barbara seemed to relax the instant she set foot in the ocean and smiled to herself.
“What you smiling at?”
Lindsay felt her cheeks grow warm, but she wasn't embarrassed, instead she just grinned.
“Nothing.”
Before using her hands to splash the other girl, who feigned shock and proceeded to do the same as though the water bothered Lindsay.
And she didn’t bother to say otherwise.
…
The two developed a pattern.
Almost every other day Barbara made her way into a cab, to the train station and to the beach. Never caring that she wasn’t looking for a job, never caring that she was using most of her savings on travel costs, because seeing Lindsay just seemed so worth it.
She was blocking out reality at all costs, because whenever she went to escape the city, Lindsay would always be waiting below the surface of the water, all bright smiles and cheeky grins, showing her caves that people rarely found along the coastline, letting Barbara wrap her arms around her neck and swim her along without fear of the water being too deep or rough, giving her only the prettiest seashells she could find because she didn’t know what else to cheer her up with.
She listened when reality began to seep back into Barbara’s subconscious. She listened about how she didn’t want to go back into a job, how she didn’t even want to be in the city anymore, that she was tired of her ex trying to cause problems for her. She was there for it all, good and bad, and still practically glowed the second she managed to see Barbara turn up on the beach, teasing her, comforting her, helping her try to forget.
Lindsay had known for a long time that she had fallen for her, but she would never speak a word of it.
Not out of fear, or embarrassment. She was confident if not flustered easily sometimes, but above all she couldn’t lose Barbara, and she endeavoured to never do so. But some days it was hard not to admit it, not just to herself, but to Barbara.
…
“I wish you could hold your breath longer and actually be able to open your eyes underwater. There’s some cool reefs around here with cute little fishies.” Lindsay said, pinching her index finger and thumb together and pouting as she spoke. Barbara let out a laugh, making sure her clothes and bag were hidden away and above the water on the rocks. She’d decided to bring her swimwear for the day, and Lindsay was excited if not a little disappointed at how fragile humans were when it came to water sometimes.
“Coming from the cute little fishie herself.” Barbara said with a grin, making her way into the water until it was just above her chest.
“You flatter me.”
“Gill-ty as charged.” Barbara said triumphantly, and Lindsay laughed, putting a intricately scaled hand over her eyes.
“Not this again Barbs, please.”
“Aw, what’s the matter Lind-sea?”
“Lind-sea? Really?”
Lindsay’s eyebrow was raised as Barbara swam out with possibly the world’s proudest grin on her face. She’d found out all too soon that puns were kind of Barbs thing, and it was kind of cute she supposed. She tried not to think of that much though.
“You love it.” Barbara insisted, and Lindsay felt something flip in her stomach, almost guilty. She ignored it, and tried to act normal as Barbara gestured her arms out to the other. Lindsay complied and turned away from her, letting the other girl hang on around her neck whilst she swam across the shoreline. Eventually they came across a fairly shallow section of water with a small coral reef. Barbara could see the fish swimming around in small, colourful shoals, if not a little blurred. After a moment of staring at the bright colours, Barbara sighed and Lindsay could feel her physically deflate, like she’d lost all energy.
Lindsay turned her head slightly, and she vaguely saw Barbara half-heartedly smile.
“I really wish I was like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like a mermaid...it must be so peaceful down there, right?”
Lindsay nodded slowly, and began to get nervous, though Barbara was unaware of the reasons.
“Yeah...I suppose it is. We never seem to get bothered much by predators, there’s nothing much to worry about at all apart from humans.”
Barbara nodded, watching the fish dart this way and that beneath the surface of the water, absentmindedly clutching closer to Lindsay.
“I’m jealous of you.”
Lindsay laughed. “Don’t be. It gets boring, believe me.”
“Do you think you could ever live up here? That’s if you wanted to. It’s pretty damn awful.”
Lindsay stiffened slightly, but not out of anger. There’d been many times where she’d wondered what it would be like to make the transition between mermaid to human. It had been spoken of before by others she’d befriended a long time ago, but she’d never seen anyone transform, of heard of anyone who had.
“I think I could. Life gets so...dull. I mean, up there it’s busy and fast-paced and, I don’t know, more alive. Underwater there’s not much to do, nothing, really, apart from watch you guys and hope you’ll notice us one day...and not want to kill us.”
Barbara chuckled at how blunt the words came out, but then she slowly stopped and furrowed her brow.
“So you really could live on land if you wanted? Not just as a mermaid, but...change?”
Lindsay didn’t say a word, and Barbara’s grip loosened around Lindsay’s neck and let go..
“Could you?”
Slowly, the other turned around, a sheepish look on her face and swirling her tailfin around in the water like a child being scolded.
“There’s always been...talk...of a ritual that could turn us into one of you. But honestly it could be just a myth. It’s never spoken of now.”
“Lindsay, up until a while ago I thought mermaid’s themselves were myths. I highly doubt a ritual is too.”
Lindsay sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. It’s something about making a bond with a human, kind of like soul-mates, but we have to have a lot of trust in the human because if that bond isn’t there, we’d, well, run out of air, like fish do after so long on land. Which is kind of gross but I guess that’s what we are, really. Just funny looking fish.”
Barbara ignored the attempt at humour, and her stomach suddenly dropped.
“Lindsay...that’s not why...we’re friends is it?” Barbara asked quietly, moving back a little so she could stand on the ocean floor rather than tread water. Lindsay’s eyes widened and her mouth opened and closed for a minute.
“No! I hadn’t even thought about it, I-”
“You were always saying how you wanted to leave the ocean though, right? Because it bored you?”
“Barbara that doesn’t mean I’d ever try and use you as a tool to get there!”
Barbara realised all too soon how upset Lindsay seemed, and that panicked look that she’d seen the first time they’d met was back.
“Sorry, Lindsay.” Barbara sighed, and Lindsay’s features softened instantly. “I’m sorry. It just scares me to think you’d want to live up here anyway.”
Lindsay watched with wide eyes.
“It’s so horrible, Lindsay. It really is. I’ve lost my job...I can barely pay for my apartment...no one cares about you, they don’t have time to care about you. You’re alone even if you have a thousand friends and it’s so stressful. I wouldn’t ever want you to live somewhere so...ugly. I care about you too much to see you get ruined by it.”
Neither of them said a word, and Barbara felt guilty for letting the stress of her life outside of the beach out on Lindsay again, but soon she felt hands curling around her waist and pulling her close, and heard Lindsay whisper something in her ear, words she never caught.
Silence encased them for the longest time, and Barbara had to ask...had to know, even if was just to keep her hope alight, the chance of something better for her waiting if things got too rough.
“Lindsay? Could I ever be one of you?”
The mermaid didn’t let go of her embrace, but her features saddened and eyes lowered.
“Yeah. Yeah, you could. But please don’t ask me, Barbs. I don’t know if I could bring myself to do it. It’s too dangerous.”
Barbara nodded, though her heart dropped a little, it was enough to hear those words.
…
Lindsay felt, rather than knew, that something was wrong the next day.
Something inside of her was riddled with worry, and she actually made her way up from the ocean floor to see if there was something happening. She just had this gut-feeling that something was going horribly wrong, she just couldn’t pinpoint what. As she resurfaced, Lindsay took a glance around the beach, making sure to stay hidden incase of any swimmers nearby. But the beach was deserted, even for a morning. She supposed it was the weather. Oddly dark clouds drifted overhead and she, even if previously accustomed to colder waters, shivered.
She frowned, and took another look around, half-expecting Barbara to be somewhere among the rocks, another day turned sour for her in the human world. But Lindsay was alone. At the first drop of rain, the mermaid sunk below the surface, frowning and feeling agitated.
…
Barbara wasn’t upset. She wasn’t angry. She simply felt nothing. There was a gaping hole where her emotions should have been, and her world which had been crumbling ever since moving to the city, had crashed and fallen around her, leaving her to trip among the debris with no one to guide her through the wreckage. Early that morning, she’d been woken up to her landlord practically knocking the door down, and she didn’t even have to ask to know what it was about. She’d failed to keep a job after her old one, she simply could not bring herself to wake up every morning with the expectation to feign happiness, to feign enthusiasm for something she loathed, for something that gave her no joy anymore.
Barbara had been late for her payments, and her landlord had had enough.
She’d been given merely three days to pack her things and be gone, so he could rent the place to someone who could keep a job, who could function like the rest of society and be a part of the work force, to someone who could pay him every month.
Barbara had smiled, had nodded, and had said she understood and would be gone as soon as possible, that she’d drop the keys off when she did. The minute the door closed, she pressed her back against it and let the tears fall, even if in her heart there was not an emotion to be found. Outside, it began to rain, and Barbara did the only thing she could think of to console her, to make her feel something through her monotonous haze. She hailed a cab, and made her way to Lindsay.
The rain seemed to worsen as she came closer to the station, and there were threats of delays as wind had blown trees onto the track, but Barbara finally managed to catch one, and in what seemed to be mere minutes she was at the beach. The water was incredibly rough, and for a moment she felt a twinge of nerves. Even if Lindsay had insisted that she was used to the water being rough, and that it felt like nothing to her, Barbara couldn’t help but worry. But the feeling wasn’t enough, and Barbara ignored the odd looks she received from rushed passersby, and ignored the signs that had been put up along the beach to ward off the public. She had to try and see Lindsay, there was nowhere else for her to go.
She headed across the beach, shielding her eyes from the violent spray of water, but her sights were set on the rocky area in an abandoned part of the beach. Barbara had no doubt Lindsay would be there, she always was. Lindsay was her anchor, her light in the dark, and if anyone could save her from the emptiness encasing Barbara, it would be her.
She slipped several times among the rocks, and was forced a lot further back than usual. The waves were violent, crashing against the rocks and causing a white spray to drench Barbara as well as the rain crashing down. She began to realise all too soon that she was making a mistake, but she couldn’t physically draw herself away from the ocean. She needed Lindsay to be there, she needed that comfort, to ignite some kind of life back into her, to replace the light that the city had stolen from her over the years.
Barbara’s foot slipped on the rock she was forced up onto, and her heart gave a jolt. Lindsay was nowhere to be seen, she couldn’t even see the flicker of crimson beneath the waves meaning she was scouring the ocean floor. She could see nothing but the white edge of oncoming waves - and they were getting bigger by the second. She was beginning to panic and tried to crawl to her left, away from the incoming tide, and Lindsay’s name found her lips in a cry.
Before she could finish, she slipped and fell into the water, trying desperately to clutch onto the rocks, to keep her above the surface, but soon enough her world became a flurry of blue, red, then black.
…
She felt...light. As though she was floating. And it was warm...endlessly comforting. Barbara felt as though she could lay there, suspended, for the longest time. But curiosity got the better of her, and slowly she tried to open her eyes. The feeling was odd, and for a moment her eyes stung horribly, but the feeling passed as soon as it started, and she looked around sluggishly, waiting for things to come into focus.
The first thing she saw were Lindsay’s, curious and worried stare, her hair drifting the water’s current like a halo, and everything inside of Barbara seemed to ignite with happiness. She lifted a hand up to Lindsay, who took it, smiling even if she looked on the verge of tears, and proceeded to swim down to her, pulling her into a hug.
It was only then that Barbara realised the gravity of what had happened, and Lindsay seemed to be able to read her mind.
“You fell in and you were almost gone...I didn’t know what to do, Barbs, the waves were so strong. It’s the worst storm I’ve had to deal with. I just didn’t want you to go…I’m so sorry Barbara.”
Barbara moved her lower half, and though the action was foreign it somehow felt...right? Her arms tightened around Lindsay’s neck, and she smiled.
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry at all. I can finally get away from it all...spend my time with someone that matters.”
Lindsay pulled away slowly, smiling softly and Barbara took the chance to expect the changes. Her tailfin almost matched Lindsay’s own, but instead was an array of gold and silver tones. She looked up at Lindsay, and the rush of affection for the girl was overwhelming. She leant forward, hands clasped across the other’s neck and pulled her close for a kiss. Lindsay’s heart surged against her chest, and she moved ever closer.
Neither spoke a word as they reluctantly pulled away. They simply smiled. Because deep down they knew that if their bond hadn’t have been so strong to begin with Barbara wouldn’t have been where she was in that instant.
Suddenly, Lindsay began to grin to herself, and Barbara cocked an eyebrow.
“Hey...I guess you could say you’re a Barbacudda.”
Barbara let out a string of laughter, clutching onto Lindsay’s hand tightly and falling into her side.
“I’m so proud.” She giggled.
…
Barbara loved the ocean. Ever since she’d moved to Austin, the warm weather and trips to the beach were something she always looked forward to. There was something endlessly relaxing and calm about it all, and back in her days of busy city life she needed that escape, like another world waiting for her to pluck her thoughts and submerge them in waves, to watch them float away from shore and be forgotten until the next tide.
But now she had Lindsay.
She had her anchor.
And unless that girl could be by her side for the rest of her life, she never wanted to resurface again.
