Chapter Text
“Help me,” Rikki said, and there was nothing else she could do. The marina wasn’t packed, not in the middle of the day, but she’d taken a face full of water from the zodiac’s prop and there was nowhere to go. This was it, the moment of truth. She needed him. She couldn’t say any more, certainly not in front of Nate, but there was nothing else to say—no pleading, no arguing—Zane was for her, or they were all doomed. He, the dogged mermaid hunter, had to have her back. Had to protect the secret he’d tried so hard to expose.
Rikki saw the moment Zane put it all together—the thing keeping them apart, the secrets, the distrust, Nate’s words ‘it’s only water’. She saw the exact moment he realised she still had her powers, that in less than ten seconds she’d transform. She was still bound by the water’s call, and now he knew it. Despite all of Emma’s best laid plans, in the end Rikki hadn’t been able to keep the truth from Zane for very long at all.
Rikki watched Zane, watched the emotions flit across his face, gaining speed until she lost the ability to read them—surprise, disbelief, conviction.
In this moment there was no time for backup plans, Rikki had wasted her chance to flee, because she couldn’t stand to run from him any longer. Keeping it a secret, staying broken up, it had been too much. She just hoped against hope, desperate enough that she had staked her life and the lives of the other’s on Zane’s love, on her love.
“Get out of here, now” Zane snapped, barely looking at her as he put himself between Rikki and Nate, instantly, instinctively.
She didn’t have time for relief, overwhelmed as she stumbled, struggling to sprint down the pier on legs beginning to liquidate beneath her, her body shifting, reforming as she tried to run. She dove into the water, vicious pride surging through her as the gifts of a mermaid took hold. She had been right. Zane had her back, he cared, he loved her still and he would protect her, protect the secret, no matter what. Rikki felt vindicated.
Zane didn’t remember the first time he’d met Rikki. She’d been too unremarkable in that moment, just another nameless girl new to town, someone to antagonise just to see her rise to the bait. And boy did she. Rikki was a firecracker on a hairpin fuse, fiery and vicious, and her confrontational personality and inability to back down brought her into regular conflict with Zane, who stirred her just because he could. She said she hated him. He didn’t even care that much. She was a nuisance, nothing more. A stolen spark plug here, a salted drink there—and yet she continued to meet him head on, baffling him. She was weird. It wasn’t until they were trapped on that roof that he began to truly crave the different side to her that revealed itself so infrequently, the softness behind her cruel facade as she refused to mock him for his fear, the unacknowledged gentleness that guided her hands as she drew him closer to the edge, soothing his stupid hang-up without so much as an amused look. It wasn’t until then that he grew so determined to get to know her despite her standoffish reservations, basking in the occasional kindness that delighted as much as it still puzzled him.
At first Zane hadn’t known what to do with her. He was used to bribing people into helping him achieve his goals—Miriam with clothes and expensive trinkets, Lewis with money or electronics—but Rikki wouldn’t touch his money, actually got offended when he tried to make the time she spent with him worth it for her in some way. He just didn’t understand it. It took him months to realise that there was no ulterior motive, that she didn’t begrudgingly hang out with him, she actually enjoyed his company whenever he got his head out of his ass far enough to stop being a pretentious gasbag.
Zane realised things as he got to know her—Rikki was more than what she made herself out to be, was strong and determined, ruthless in protecting her friends, insightful and smart, quick to anger but always apologetic, even if she showed it in unusual ways. She had a bigger set than any of his gutless mates and never backed down from a fight, always determined to have the last word no matter how mean or underhanded she had to be to get it.
He was transfixed by that smirk-tinged grin. Her brash personality had been annoying at first, but now that he was on the other end of it? Now that he was someone she’d fight for? He couldn’t get enough of it.
He admired her.
It was fascinating to get these glimpses past her harsh veneer, to slowly come to know the true person underneath. He wondered if Emma or Cleo knew her this well. He was sure they knew her, but he was certain that she hadn’t let them see these sides of her, not the way she had with him. They were similar, if opposite, and he knew as well as she did that her friends, with their happy families and typically cheery lives, wouldn’t understand.
When Rikki had first been transformed she hadn’t tried to fight it or run away from it. As soon as they’d realised what they were, she was in the water every chance she could get, leaving her clothes on the sand and disappearing into the ocean, losing herself in the underwater world. While Emma pretended everything was normal and Cleo tried to deny herself, Rikki hadn’t bothered clinging to her old life, before.
She’d had nothing to lose anyway.
Now, as she slunk past the Moon Pool, she wished she could feel the same as she did then, wished she could leave her worries and inhibitions on the sand with the trappings of her humanity and put leagues of underwater travel between them. The way things had ended with Zane weighed on her no matter how many times Emma told her it was for the best, Cleo’s sympathetic looks doing nothing to alleviate the despondency taking up root underneath her skin. His absence had settled around her ribs like a diving bell, dragging her down when she was on land and buoying her when she wanted nothing more than to sink into the sea, shackling her to the same half life as the others, somewhere between human and fish.
When she was with Zane, Rikki was nowhere else, everything that wasn’t that moment, their moment, fading away. No part of her longed for the sea, no part of her longed for the land—it didn’t matter what form she was in, she was balanced, at peace, when they were together. He was her equilibrium between being torn to run inland or wanting to drown her thoughts beneath the waves, her neutral buoyancy. All that had shattered with the dramatic end of their relationship, and his absence ached. They’d had no communication since that horrifying showdown with Denman, where he’d freed her without hesitation, not a single call since his father had dragged him out of school to ‘realign their priorities’. She wondered if he ever thought about her, wondered if she’d taken up residence in his mind and was now shouting ‘squatter’s rights!’ whenever he tried to exorcise her, the way his ghost had with her. She saw him everywhere—in the shadow of Mako, in the crowded marina, in the halls at school. And now he was back, all the things left unsaid a fetid wound between them, infected and weeping.
She knew that he’d come for her, imagined that even now could hear the distant roar of the zodiac as she hauled herself out of the water and onto the rocks of Mako, arms long since past the point of protesting the bulky weight of her scaly lower half. She’d been back to the Moon Pool, since, weeks after Lewis had promised he’d scoured every inch of the place for cameras, but she was still uneasy in their former sanctuary, where they’d been penned in like animals for the slaughter, before Zane had-
Rikki’s tail flopped onto the rocks, scales too tough to be wounded by the scraggly patch of barnacles and sharp shelled limpets.
Her power surged in her blood and through her skin, scorching her from the inside out until she steamed, and her tail was replaced by legs.
She’d changed in front of Zane, had maybe doomed them all. She’d just torn off the top of the unchanged bandage that had hastily covered their severed relationship, exposing the miasma of lies and hurt festering between them, ready for cauterisation. She had no doubt that that was what Zane was coming for. He’d probably yell, but so would she, and in the end they'd both be better for it. No, she knew he’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she gave him half a reason, and he had saved her with Nate, there was no doubt at all that he was coming, but what she didn’t know was what was going to happen with them.
Instead of giving her worries their head, she walked. Her bare feet traversed the tricky section of rock without difficulty, and she didn't spare a thought for the sharp cluster of rocky shell. No barnacle or oyster had cut her since she’d been transformed, and it had been so minor a detail that none of them had noticed at first. It had been Lewis who’d put it all together, and had a field day trying to get tissue samples when their skin resisted his scalpel. She’d laughed, at that, but it hadn't been funny when Denman had been the one behind the knife. She closed her eyes at the thought, and let her inhuman feet take her to shore, body instinctively heading through the trees towards the new sanctuary that she’d found in the wake of what had happened, unable to stand the confines of the Moon Pool after it had become their prison, arriving on foot and searching the mountain for dozens of other little hidey-holes. Her preferred was a cleft in the rock half hidden by a patch of hanging foliage, a narrow crevasse heading to a subterranean hollow, one wall glistening with water leaking down through the rock. Unlike the Moon Pool it didn’t connect to the ocean—the cavern was probably even more risky with no secondary exit strategy, but with only one way in or out she wouldn’t be taken unawares again.
She knew Zane would find her, even if he probably had no idea of her hidden cave sanctuary. He’d be able to find her even if he had to cross the length of the continent blindfolded.
When Zane had first found out that mermaids were real no one had believed him and he’d gone half mad trying to hold onto his sanity.
Everyone thought he was crazy, but he didn’t care because he was drowning while on land and no one cared to hear his screams. Rikki had, he could see in her eyes that she believed him, even when they had been strangers, but she would never say it aloud and he’d let the matter rest, desperate to gasp up the breath of fresh air that was Rikki Chadwick.
And then proof had practically fallen into his lap and he’d all but tripped over himself to see them. He hadn’t thought about Rikki until excitement and bubbling vindication were surging in his blood, singing along with the waves skimming beneath Denman’s boat. Maybe he’d bring Rikki out to see them, maybe he’d finally find out why she wouldn’t hear a single word about the mermaids he knew were out there.
It was only later that he’d discovered Lewis locked in the hold, when he’d fled Mako sick to his stomach, needing to get out of the confines of that damned cave—the same one Rikki had taken him to, once—and into the open sky because there she was, his air, the creature he’d been hunting, caged because of him. He’d freed Lewis, and together they’d freed the girls, freed not saved, because they would never be safe again and it was all his fault. The whole time he couldn’t help but thinking if only they’d told him, if only they’d told him he would’ve kept his big mouth shut and would have kept this from happening, would’ve protected them with his life but of course they couldn’t tell him, he was the one hunting them, telling anyone and everyone who gave him a half-second’s chance about their existence. But he hadn’t known, it hadn’t been Rikki trapped down there in that pool.
And then it was over and the girls were human in the water, Zane’s chest a mess of conflicted and overriding feelings. At least they’d be safe, at least they’d be safe. They should have told him. It didn’t matter now. And Rikki would never want to speak to him again. So he didn’t fight it when his dad’s guilt had dragged him from school three weeks early, clinging onto his father’s attempt to reconnect, to make things right, as if it was a lifeline in a storm of loss. His first lifeline slipped from his mind, but he held onto her in his heart, held onto the useless hope that if only he could explain. His dad took them far south, inland away from the coast, and he returned to old hobbies, an old life that had become meaningless while he’d been drowning. He was himself again, almost, but he didn’t want to be, missed the sea like it was his home despite not giving a damn before, and missed Rikki like he’d left his heart with her.
And then school had started up again, and he’d returned to the Gold Coast, orbiting Rikki and barely resisting the urge to pull on her pigtails.
He’d seen how that worked, the first time around, and now that he knew how breathtakingly caring she could be to the people she let in he refused to go back to antagonising her. He wanted to let it be, could see the warring desires within her, torn between craving his presence and wanting to retreat to lick her wounds. He wanted to let her, wanted her to be comfortable, but he knew how stubborn she could be, and knew that if they waited too long she was likely to baulk at the idea entirely.
When he’d invited her to the track he hadn't been planning anything, but watching her flinch away from the drink he’d gotten for her had stung, and he had to know.
It was easy enough for him to overbalance on a berm, easy enough to let the back wheel skid out, easy enough to hit the ground. He landed with a thud that reverberated through his body, echoing in his bones. It hurt, a little, but his gear was padded where it needed to be and he’d hit the ground with the flat of his arm and shoulder first, to dissipate the impact. It was something he only could have done if he’d been expecting the fall. Because it had been on purpose. He’d deliberately stacked, just to see how Rikki would react.
He wasn’t sure what he should do next, lying there on the dirt. Should he get up and stagger over to the fence, where Rikki was watching? No, that felt a bit too much like lying for his tastes. Maybe he should just give riding a rest, let her fill in the blanks, let him see if she fussed over him or not. But the decision was taken out of his hands. He’d waited too long to stand, and Rikki had run out onto the track, to kneel by his side.
“Zane? Zane, are you okay?” she asked, face creased with worry, hands hovering over his shoulders, as if tempted to shake him but scared of exacerbating any injuries.
It was proof she still cared about him. Proof she loved him, the same as she always had. He hadn’t screwed everything up that badly then, despite everything, despite Denman. He had a chance to fix things. He had a chance with her. His heart swelled in his chest, pressing up against his ribs, filling his chest with emotion, making his nerves tingle, right down his spine to his feet. He didn’t realise he had been actually, genuinely dazed until he felt air on his face, realising that somehow Rikki had undone the straps holding his helmet in place and yanked it off. The guilt that sparked when he saw the worry plain on her face well and truly doused his joy, and he hated himself for setting it up.
Still, he couldn’t resist lifting a hand to catch the back of her head as she lent over him, couldn’t resist pulling her down for a kiss. It was quick and awkward and uncoordinated. Rikki wasn’t expecting it, and it showed. It was the best thing that had happened to him in months.
“Zane!” Rikki shouted, shoving him away and getting to her feet, storming off. He couldn’t blame her, not even a little. Things would be better if he could just talk to her about everything. If he could apologise and ask to make it up to her. But given their history with coming clean? He didn't know if they'd fallen apart because of all the secrets, reasonable secrets, or if there was something cracked in their foundations, something that couldn't be fixed. He knew there was something keeping them apart, something unsaid between them still, something leaving Rikki conflicted, but couldn't be sure what it was. Was it her fear of him? Did she blame him for what Denman had done?
By the time he was facing her on the dock, Nate’s disparaging complaints ringing in his ears, he was wound up, spurred on by the guilt and uncertainty, the two of them snapping at each other like they were strangers again. He didn't know what would have happened if Nate hadn't gunned the outboard, soaking them both. He would've liked to think that she would've told him eventually, he knew she’d wanted to. But the choice was out of either of their hands the moment the zodiac’s prop was showering the two of them in salt spray.
Looking back on it he knew she could have run, as the scene played over and over in his head in hindsight he marvelled that she stayed. It shouldn't have surprised him—he’d always known she was stupidly brave. The moment he heard the panic in her voice he was looking around for the cause, jaw slackening as he realised she wasn't human at all.
What could he do but help her? He shoved her in the direction of the water, stepping forward to snap at Nate, picking an argument because he needed Nate’s attention on him, needed his mate to forget Rikki was here—right up until she wasn’t. He needed Nate not to see, not to wonder how she’d been there one minute and gone the next. Needed Nate’s attention for long enough that he assumed she’d stormed off when they’d been distracted. So Zane did what he had to do.
The expression on her face was almost heartbreaking, the shock and sheer love in her eyes nearly flooring him. But Nate was right there and so Zane finally stepped in to protect her, to protect them all, as he would have all along if they'd just told him. She dove off the side of the dock while Zane began yelling at Nate, transformation sliding into place just as she disappeared into the water and out of sight. He harried Nate off his boat, then, glad that they’d finished refuelling before Rikki arrived.
He didn't bother waiting around. Zane knew Rikki wouldn't be hiding just under the surface. She was defensive to a fault, and he knew she’d be heading straight for Mako. For whatever reason, it was where she and the others hid away. He didn't think she’d want to go back to that underwater cavern—it would no longer be a safe place in her mind after being trapped there, especially not when she wanted what happened next to be on her terms—but she’d be somewhere on the island. He knew he’d be able to find her. He’d find her anywhere.