Archive of Our Own

The Ocean has its silent caves,
Deep, quiet, and alone;
Though there be fury on the waves,
Beneath them there is none.

The earth has guilt, the earth has care,
Unquiet are its graves;
But peaceful sleep is ever there,
Beneath the dark blue waves.

 Nathaniel Hawthorne, "The Ocean" 

Edmundo Diaz has had worse days. Not many, and surely this would rank in his top three worst days, but it's not the singular worst day he's ever had in his life.

He climbs to the crow's nest. The ship is sinking, but if he can get the higher ground for now, then he can at least buy himself some time. He'd sent Henrietta, Ravi, and Howard away earlier in a rowboat they used to carry out errands when they didn't want to fully dock the ship at port. Eddie had stayed behind to try and salvage what he could from the ship—but he knows it's a fool's cause. And now he's going to die in the ocean, leagues away from his son, who’ll be left without either of his parents. Tyler, known by his friends as TK, and Carlos are good men—they'll care for him with everything they have, but Eddie prays, regardless, sending all of his love for his child out to the heavens, hoping that someone will hear his plea.

"Santa Maria," he murmurs under his breath as the crow's nest approaches the surface of the water. "Please hear my prayer, let Christopher feel my undying love for him—let me return to my boy, don't let him grow up an orphan—give me the strength to go back—" His hand reaches for the crucifix around his neck. He begins to swim away, but somehow, of course, his leg gets tangled in the rope that hangs from the edge of the nest and he's dragged down, sinking into the depths.

He attempts to fight, kicking off as he tries to rise to the surface. And he almost makes it, breathing in the air with a desperate gasp.

But it's not enough. The maws of the sunken depths reach out to him, grasping at his ankles, dragging him down. He's able to breach the surface one last time, watery oxygen filling his lungs as he's pulled down, deeper—deeper—

Deeper.

Into the darkness.

As he sinks, he gives one last final prayer to the heavens above.

Rain pours in endless rippling sheets over San Juan, thunder sends rumbles through the island, shaking the trees, their branches ever at a risk of breaking off. The winds howl, and Eddie thinks about how the weather outside doesn't match the turmoil in his heart.

A tear slips down his cheek as he watches TK sit over Shannon's bedside. He's an omega nurse, and the husband of one of the sailors from his ship. She'd been sick for some time though Eddie doesn't know how much longer she has.

"How is she doing?" Eddie asks.

TK shakes his head. "Her fever isn't going down, I'm not sure she'll make the night," he says. "You should say your goodbyes now," he adds.

Eddie frowns and sits at her bedside. running a hand through his hair.

She coughs into the handkerchief peppered with spots of blood and sets it to the side, taking Eddie's hand.

"Looks like I'm leaving again," she says softly.

Eddie shakes his head in response, lifting his hand to run through her hair. "It's okay," he says. He shakes his head. "I don't—I can't do this without you. I'm won't be a good father—"

She shakes her head. "No, Edmundo," she says, her voice gentle, firm, yet weakened from the illness. "Don't say that. I wouldn't be leaving our son with you if I didn't think you were the best father in the world."

Eddie laughs softly and shakes his head gripping her hand in his. "Please Shannon—just—a little longer, I'm sure we can find some—"

She shakes her head and lays back. "This is it," she says. "But I'll watch over you," she promises.

Eddie closes his eyes, the Hail Mary prayer upon his lips as he prays over her. She weakly mirrors the sign of the cross and he offers her a smile. His fingers run through her hair.

"I'm tired," she says, her eyes slowly drifting closed.

"Then rest, Shannon, I'll be here when you wake up," Eddie promises.

"I love you both," she barely manages to whisper before she closes her eyes.

Her features smooth out over her face, and she looks like she's sleeping—but Eddie knows that her life is slowly leaving her body, and his heart twists as he watches her slip under and away from him.

TK's hand rests on Eddie's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says softly.

Eddie nods, lifting a hand to his face as he tries to stifle the sobs wracking his chest. "What will I tell Christopher? He's already asking why his mother cannot see him."

TK sighs and looks down. "He's a smart boy, tell him the truth."

Eddie sighs and nods as he watches the aides in the room begin to pull the sheet over her face, preparing her body for the funeral.

She'd been an alpha as well, so there wasn't a bond to break, but Eddie feels heartbreak just the same.  

Eddie wakes up shivering and cold, his wet clothing sticking to his skin. As soon as he tries to sit up he feels searing pain lancing through his chest. A hand presses him down back onto the sand as Eddie turns his head to the side to cough out water, taking deep gasping breaths. His eyes still feel heavy, the salt stinging them, so he keeps them closed for a second.

The hand rests on his chest—radiating heat and warmth, flooding him with life—and it enraptured his soul. And then a man with the sweetest scent that cuts through the salt of the seawater.

And just like that, the man is gone, disappearing into the water. He sits up, abruptly, and once he does, he turns his head to cough out more water from his lungs—so he's not able to pursue his rescuer. Though Eddie could swear he sees a tail disappearing into the waves. He sits up slowly and blinks—was he hallucinating? Surely he didn't see what he thought he saw. Merfolk were myths surely, a fairy tale told to pups in their nests to help them go to sleep at night. Something to explain the magic and mysteries of the ocean.

Then why does he feel like he's just had an encounter with one? He scrubs his face, his stubble scratching against his hand and he winces.

He takes a deep breath, crying out in pain when he feels the gash on his side begin to open up. He holds a hand against his side and scrunches his face. He pulls his hand back—and there's some blood. But it's not as bad as it could have been. A few days and he'd be fine. He takes off his vest and tears it as best as he can. using the fabric scraps to make a makeshift bandage he ties around himself to keep the wound covered.

He's alive. He has no idea where he is, but he's alive. With nothing but the (very wet) clothes on his back, he wonders how he's going to get off the island. He shivers once as the wind whips around his body, causing the clothes on his back to cling to him—freezing cold against his skin. He won't survive like this.

Eddie takes off his shirt and pants, leaving only his smallclothes behind. But they'll dry faster without the heavy weight of his outer clothes. He drapes them along some low branches on the edge of the beach and then begins to start finding kindling for a fire.

His prayers have been answered—for once. Whoever dropped him off here knows that this is an island rich in resources. There's a stream in the middle of the island where the water is fresh—likely coming from the ground. There are countless trees bearing fruits that are edible. And Eddie can fish as soon as he's constructed a fishing pole. All in all, he could survive here for a while—if not for the bitter sting of loneliness that will set in. Though, he hopes that it won't be long before a ship passes by.

"Father!" a young voice says, the sound of his crutches beating against the wooden floor. Eddie's heart fills with joy and he turns to pick him up.

"Christopher!" he says, closing his eyes as his pup snuggles into his side, scenting him.

Ever since they'd lost her mother, they were all each other had. And now because of a stupid mistake on his part, he has to go into hiding.

But it's not safe for him to be here. After defecting from the Royal Navy, he's lucky that his friend Carlos was able to take Christopher in. But as long as Eddie stays here—it’s unsafe.

All for the crime of freeing a slave from one of the general's sugar plantations.

But he doesn't regret it. Even if he's condemned to a life of piracy.

"I will find a way to send you money," he tells Carlos and TK.

TK's hand cups over Eddie's. "No need. Your son is an absolute joy. We will manage—you stay safe."

"You don't have much time. But if you lay low for a few years—they'll move on," Carlos assures Eddie, handing him a coin purse full of gold.

"This should give you safe passage to Port Royal, there look for a man called Chimney," TK says. "You remember Tommy Vega?"

Eddie nods. She was Charles Vega's wife, and after he was killed in the line of duty, she became the town doctor.

"She might have word on a transport vessel—outlaws who help her cause leaving port in a few days."

"How is that supposed to keep me off of the Navy's notice?" Eddie asks, scrunching his nose.

Carlos places a hand on his shoulder. "Because it's what you do. It's where you're needed."

Eddie sighs and rubs Christopher's back.

"You're going to save people, aren't you?" Christopher asks, pulling back from where he'd been gripping his father tightly.

"I'll sure try," Eddie says, peppering Christopher's face with kisses.

"Come home soon, okay Father?" Christopher asks.

"I'll be home as soon as I can mijo," Eddie responds. "And I'll write every day. So you better keep up with your reading!" He points his finger at Christopher in a mock show of sternness.

Christopher nods, remaining brave, though his lower lip begins to wobble.

Eddie gently sets him down in the chair, handing his crutches over to him.

There's sounds of patrolling officers out there, ordering each other to split up.

"We're out of time," TK hisses as he guides Eddie towards the back of the house. "You'll go into the cellar, there's a small tunnel that'll take you to the beach," he says.

Eddie nods, strapping his bag to his side.

"Father, take this with you," Christopher says, holding out a small wooden carving he'd done of a duck. Eddie had been so proud of him and he kneels down to take it in his hands, his eyes burning with tears.

He promised Shannon he'd care for Christopher, but a life on the run from the Navy was not a life he wanted to give his child. TK and Carlos would care for him—would raise him as if he were their own.

And Eddie will do as much as he can from a distance, even though it breaks his heart.

He hugs him tightly as Christopher hugs him back.

"Save people, father. I told all my friends you're a hero," he says.

Eddie laughs softly, pulling back as he grasps both of his shoulders in his hands, making eye contact with him. "Of course," he says. "I'll make you proud."

"You already do."

The sound of boots marching on the ground grow ever so closer, and Eddie tears himself away. This is to protect his little family. He'll be back, he swears to every power in the Heavens.

He gives Christopher one forlorn look before he follows TK back to the cellar. Rain falls in sheets around them as TK leads him out to the side alley. Eddie is thankful that the cover of rainfall masks his footprints. But not for long. The sound of naval boots pound down the street and Eddie winces as he hugs the wall.

"Go back," he whispers to TK.

"Not until I've seen you off to the cellar," TK says, stubbornness radiating from him. "No one will question my presence, I'm the husband of a naval officer. I can create a distraction," he adds.

Once the threat has passed, the two duck into an alleyway where a set of two doors jut out of the ground. TK unlocks the heavy padlocks and once he does, Eddie begins to unwind the heavy chain from the door. Hair falls in his face, sending rivulets of rainwater down his face and he lifts a hand to push the strands out of the way.

TK keeps watch and whistles once when he sees a patrolman walking down the street. Eddie finally finishes unwinding the chains. "You'll be able to lock this behind me?" Eddie asks after he opens the door to reveal earthen steps sinking under the ground.

"Never mind that," TK says, clasping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Now go. Tell Tommy and Henrietta I send my prayers," he adds. "And Godspeed to you."

The smell of petrichor wafts up, and there's an audible water drip nearby as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. As soon as he reaches the bottom, he hears the heavy cellar doors close above him and he takes a deep breath.

He can hear the scurrying of rats much closer than he'd care to admit, but he knows that he needs to carry on. His contact would be here, waiting for him. He can only pray that his contact wasn't caught before.

He's got his knife that he kept strapped to his belt, so he uses that to build the makeshift camp. His side bothers him, the wound reminding him of its presence with a pulsing throb. But he pushes through, just as he's always done.

Before long, the fire is crackling merrily, the smoke billowing up towards the sky as he hopes to get another sailor's attention, hoping desperately that it's a pirate or fishing vessel. He doesn’t have it in him to deal with the Royal Navy, and he doesn't much want to be thrown into prison. No thank you. Alone on a desert island sounds a lot better than six months of dirty brig quarters to return to a filthy country to stand trial for—a number of things. But he doesn't have it in him to think about all that.

He scrunches his nose. If only he had a spyglass of some sort so he could identify passing ships as friend or foe. But he reasons that naval ships are pretty ostentatious, so he'd probably be able to hide if one of those were to pass by. This is too much thinking and he's already starting to feel hungry. For now he could probably crack open a coconut and figure out how he's going to set up a fishing system. He needs to stay alive.

For Christopher.

As he's arranging things in the camp, he hears a nearby splash and he glances back towards the cove. The water is deeper there, and there's a rock shelf that drops right down into the water below. There shouldn't be too much splashing here, especially not the deliberate one he'd heard. Is that a tail? He asks himself as he sees something submerge itself. The sun is still making its final descent into the horizon, but he can swear that the tail itself is iridescent, an orange glow he could get lost in. He commits it to memory, perhaps he'd meet his savior soon.

And when he tries to investigate further, he sees a bag resting on one of the rocks nearby. He recognizes it as his own, and he blinks a few times, wondering if he's truly gone insane. Perhaps he'd hit his head when the ship was sinking. And now he's delirious and will experience hallucinations until he dies on this godforsaken island.

But if he's delirious, then why does the bag feel real? He leans down and slowly reaches out to touch it. Wondering if he's really falling into a trap. At this point he'll believe anything, but something unnatural is happening here. When he places his hand on it, he can feel the leather. It's still worn, the torn edge of the flap still there. If it's a copy or some sort of magic, it's certainly very strong magic. But at this point, Eddie's been kept alive against every single odd. So he opens it with a breath of relief. The silk lining is still worn in the same places. Though the salt has damaged it far more than can be salvageable. But that doesn't matter—what does matter is what was inside the bag.

He reaches inside to pick up the two items that had survived the shipwreck. A locket that carries a hand painted portrait of Shannon and Christopher and the little figurine of a duck Christopher had given him before he left. His naval decoration that he had in there is missing, and it's a pity, it was going to fetch a good price to pay for the ship repairs. However, he's thankful for what could be salvaged. He opens the locket once, and sees the tiny portrait of Christopher and Shannon smiling back at him. There's a droplet of water mixing the inks but it was not submerged enough to permanently ruin it. Nevertheless he leaves it open on the rock face, hoping that it does not damage further.

His eyes sting with tears and he holds them close to his chest. They begin to fall openly down his cheeks and he looks around—because it's impossible that this bag just made its way over to him on its own. And then he sees him—those eyes again. It's farther, but he can't mistake what he's seeing. And he begins to run towards him.

"Wait! Please! Stop!" he exclaims before he gets to the land's edge and the man who was just there, disappears altogether.

He catches himself before he goes into the ocean, but watches as a dorsal fin seems to peek out of the water.

"And if you're not careful, you'll be lured by their song—their cry will bring you under their thrall and they'll drag you down to the bottom of the sea, never to be heard from again."

Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up, stretching as he glances up at their ship, anchored just outside the coastal shelf. They need lumber for repairs, and to gather supplies. And it's easier to do on uninhabited islands, even if they're getting closer to The Triangle.

They all look a mess—and definitely needed to take a break from the ocean. Their clothes could also use some mending and, most importantly, some washing. Eddie glances at his crewmates. There's Howard, or as everyone knows him, Chimney (only a select few know how he got the nickname), a former trader, turned privateer who's the Captain of the One-Eighteen; Henrietta, his first mate, who's made it her sole purpose to eliminate slavery from the West Indies; Ravi, a trader who'd traveled over from the East Indies—freed from the same plantation as Hen's omega, Karen. Karen is snuggled into Henrietta's side, drifting off to sleep as she listens to her wife's stories with a lovesick smile on her face.

Eddie and Hen are the only two alphas on this ship—Hen is bonded, and Eddie is uninterested in pursuing anything with anyone. It's a small and loyal crew.

"Whoa," Ravi says, his eyes widening as he listens, enraptured by Henrietta's tale. "Have you ever seen a Siren?"

"There's no way you believe that's true," Eddie says, snorting.

"C'mon Eddie, leave room for the unknown," Chimney says, clapping him on the back as he drinks from a bottle of rum.

"I'm not making the wind something that it's not," Eddie argues, plopping down next to the fire once he's done hanging his clothes out to dry.

"Oh it's not the wind," Hen says. She glances back at the open ocean, in the direction of the Triangle. "Many have gone that way, never to return—captured by the Sea. We're here as their guests. And we better act like it."

Eddie doesn't know why, but he feels a shiver run down his spine.

He doesn't believe in the divine or the unknown. Well—he still prays when he can. But he's long stopped believing in magic. For him, there's nothing more magical than Christopher's smile. That's all he needs.

"Thinking about him?" Chimney asks, handing Eddie the bottle.

Eddie takes a swig, and it trails a burn down his throat right into his heart. "Yeah," he says.

Chimney claps him on the back. "A few more jobs and you'll have enough to go to the mainland—"

"I don't—think I will," Eddie admits.

"What do you mean? You said when you joined, very clearly that you were looking for enough money to seek safe passage and establishment for yourself and Christopher in Florida. Has that changed?"

Eddie shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "No but—he's in a good home right now," he says. "And what we're doing—it's good. It's right. They need us out there," he says, feeling a warmth in his chest as he thinks about how many people they've freed from truly inhumane conditions. Sailors they've found at sea, abandoned by their crew. Prisoners they've freed where their only crime was poverty.

People he's seen flourish months later when they've checked in on them.

"I think I'm meant to do this."

And if he's running from his own life—from his obligations. Then it's for only him to know.

Christopher is safe. Healthy. Hale. That's all Eddie needs. Even if it opens a gaping chasm in his chest.

Someone's watching him.

It's a skill Eddie's had to learn quick, especially when they're in towns of ill repute. And now he's managed to wake up at any unnatural sound.

And he knows the ocean. Knows it well from his years aboard the One-Eighteen. He knows when there's something unnatural. He doesn't move, however, because he has a feeling that the being watching him is his savior.

Perhaps Hen's stories are not so outlandish at all. He turns his head and he sees his eyes peeking over the outcropping.

There's a pile of fish there, fish that Eddie's caught—and he hopes he can leave it there as some sort of peace offering. (What else do you leave for an actual sea god?)

He's about to duck down under the sea when Eddie holds out a hand. "Wait! Please! Don't go," he says.

And they say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, looking for a different result, but Eddie wonders if this time might be the magic time.

"Please I won't tell anyone about you—just—let me thank you?" he asks.

The head pops a little farther out of the water, and he folds up his—incredibly well sculpted arms to rest on the rock face as he rests his chin on it. The man (?) tilts his head to the side.

"Uh—oh god—you proabably don't understand me," Eddie grumbles before he tries to gesture at himself. "Me—Eddie—" he says. "And you—?" he asks, pointing at the man. "¿Habla Español?" He tries again.

The not (?) man looks almost amused at that and he watches Eddie scramble a little bit.

"Me," he says, gesturing to himself. "Me—name—nombre?? Name—is Eddie." He places a hand over his heart. "Eddie," he says again as if it'll make all the difference.

"Ugh I'm so sorry I feel so stupid."

"Buck," the fish man says. "I'm Buck."

Eddie's expression falls flat. "You speak English?" he asks.

Buck laughs, throwing his head back, and Eddie finds he doesn't mind that. He's not nearly as angry as he would be if Buck were anyone else. "And miss you doing that—amazing dance?" He gestures at himself. "Me- Eddie!" he says, mirth in his voice.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Eddie gives him an even look at immediately Buck cows. "Oh—I uh—sorry," he says. He sinks further down into the ocean, and Eddie's not sure he's ever seen anything this sad in his life.

And just like that, Eddie's ire vanishes and he feels an incredible softness take over.

"No I'm—it's okay. I'm just surprised is all. So Buck—you're a Siren?"

"What's that?" Buck asks, tilting his head to the side.

"A Siren—you know those things from Greek mythology?"

"What's a Greek Mythology?" Buck asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Maybe not.

"These beautiful creatures lure sailors in with their beautiful voice and form only to drown them underwater?"

Buck looks very confused and Eddie suddenly wishes he hadn't tried talking or asking anything. And then he realizes something and his face breaks out into a wide smile.

"You think I have a beautiful form?" Buck asks, his cheeks matching the shade of coral as he smiles and ducks further into the ocean. But he doesn't disappear immediately, but he seems to have latched onto that compliment, and Eddie files that away for later.

Oh so he's cute.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Oh alright, don't get carried away," he says. He rolls his eyes and sits back.

"Do you mean Nereides?" Buck finally asks.

Eddie frowns. "What?"

"They're not Sirens. They're Nereides, and they don't lure sailors in, they try to be helpful," Buck says, grumbling. "But it didn't do much good—so they keep to themselves mostly. And super ancient—but my dad's mentioned them a few times," Buck chatters happily, and Eddie finds he doesn't mind the mythology (history?) lesson.

Buck finally turns and looks at the sad pile of fish on the rock.

"Uh—those are for you—a thank you," Eddie says, gesturing to them. "Unless—you don't eat fish." Is he showing Buck a carcass of his cousin? Oh gods—this is not—what Eddie wanted.

Buck makes a face and stares at the fish. "I mean, I do, but not that fish," he says. "If you want a ton of bones stuck in your throat, maybe."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Well I don't know if you can tell, I'm kind of limited on my resources here. So that's all I've managed to get."

Buck's eyes widen and he immediately dives back into the water and Eddie watches him disappear.

Did he just insult him—?

No sooner had he begun to think Buck was never going to come back, or worse, was a figment of his delirious imagination, he sees something tugging at the net he'd cast and Buck pops back up behind him. "It was easier to just put them in there," he says and Eddie tugs it back in, his eyes widening when he sees all the fish Buck had caught for him.

Buck's tail (and Eddie's going to mark that down for later, because what in the world?) swishes from side to side and he looks as if he's trying to get some sort of praise from Eddie. Eddie's reminded of a dog. A very cute dog.

"Thanks Buck—this is awesome," Eddie says, tying it off so he can deal with gutting and cleaning the fish later.

And somehow, Buck's tail swishes even faster and he grins wide at Eddie.

Upon a closer look, his teeth are a little sharper than the average person's. But all in all, he looks surprisingly human, minus the—well the clawed hands, the gills across his chest.

He sighs and sits down on the edge of the rock face, dipping his feet into the ocean. It's warm here—and for the first time in days, Eddie doesn't feel so alone. "Why did you save me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie looks around. "I know we're in the Triangle—I know ships don't usually make it out of the Triangle—" His stomach drops.

"My crew, I sent them away in a rowboat before—are they—?"

Buck shakes his head. "I didn't see them—but if the Sea claimed them—I—I only could save you, I'm sorry."

He turns to Buck who looks like he's about to cry.

"I could—try to see if I can see them somewhere, but I'm not—really supposed to cross the border," he admits.

Eddie frowns, feeling something sinking in his chest. The rest of his crew is most likely dead, and he's the only one left. Alive. He feels nauseous and he gets up, turning away from Buck, not wanting to see the emotion on his face.

Buck did what he could—he saved Eddie. Though why he chose him above all the others, he doesn't know.

"Why me?" he asks Buck. "Why did you save me?"

Buck looks away. "I had to," he says, his voice weak.

And Eddie wonders why—why this beautiful creature had picked him to save. But he doesn't exactly press farther, lest he scare the nymph off. Not when he's been the only company Eddie has had.

He takes a deep breath and he frowns as he feels the strain against his ribs. He's still not completely well—but he has to get back.

"Can you take me back to the border?" he asks.

Buck nods, his eyes peeking above the waterline.

"I'll need uh—I'll need to make a boat. Can you help me with that? I need supplies and scrap—and—"

Buck nods. "Yeah! Yeah I can—I'll help you with whatever you need."

Alright, Eddie thinks. They have a plan. For now.

They sit in silence, basking in each other's company, and Eddie has a feeling that even this is temporary.

As the sun sets, Buck begins to look back towards the open ocean. "I have to go—my uh—they'll be wondering where I went and I'm not supposed to be here—around you," He gestures with his hands and Eddie's captivated by them—by the long claws coming out of his fingertips. Made for the ocean—streamlined, so ethereally gorgeous.

He pauses and places a hand over Buck's, stilling his movements. His hand is warm—and Eddie doesn't know what he expected to feel. Fish are cold blooded—and yet whales and dolphins are not. That would make Buck a mammal—he thinks. Though that's where his deductions end. But he pulls his hand back, and finds that he misses him already.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Well yeah, I'll have to go get you supplies and stuff. I think I can find some stuff—"

"Just something to cut down trees if it isn't too rusted," Eddie says.

"No there's a ship wrecked on an island nearby," Buck says. "There's some stuff there I can get—oh! I can take you—" He pauses, looking at Eddie's bandaged side.

"You probably don't want to swim with that though," he says, scrunching up his face.

"Yeah—until I'm healed I can't go into the water." Eddie agrees, though he doesn't necessarily like it. "Uh. Bring back whatever you can? And I'm sure I'll be able to use it," Eddie says.

"Aye-aye sir," Buck says, giving Eddie a salute, and Eddie laughs, waving to Buck as he watches him swim away.

"Thank you," he whispers into the wind, the words disappearing into the froth of the sea.