Chapter Text
“Whatever you do, do not go down to the cove under the cliff, where the rocks are sharp and the sand is gray. No good will come of it.” Lance’s grandmother held his gaze. “And do not, under any circumstances, swim in that water. I am serious, love, that beach will not welcome you.”
Lance sighed. His Nana never let him have any fun. “Yes, Nana. But can I at least ask wh-”
“She’s not filling your head with those vague warnings again, is she?” Lance’s mother passed with a box, bumping him with her hip. “Don’t listen to her dear, she’s only trying to scare you. And Mother, do stop telling Lance stories or he’ll be afraid to leave the house before long.”
His Nana humphed. Lance ran after his mom, delighted. “Does that mean I can go down to that beach for a swim?” He couldn’t wait, the water looked too good to pass up!
She turned, and fixed him with a stare. “No dear, I’m afraid not. Your Nana may go for the spooky way of warning you, but those rocks are sharp and it’s too far away for me to keep an eye on you. Besides, there’s a perfectly good beach right in front of our house. Swim there, once we’ve finished unpacking.”
Lance paused, then shrugged. Oh well, at least that was something. He ran out of the room, then stood aside as his older sister, Aleja, passed through the door. “Lance, grab the last few boxes, will you? And you should listen to Mom, there’s been a couple shark sightings around there. You’re so small, you’d barely be a bite for them!” She laughed, ruffling his hair. He pouted, indignant. He was strong! He could fight off a couple sharks, no problem! He’d show them-
“Lance, get out here and help us unload!!”
He ran outside, joining his dad in carrying in the last few boxes. Moving into a new house was so exciting! He couldn’t wait to make friends, and swim, and explore, and- “Get your head out of the clouds, Lance, we gotta take a family picture!” Aleja smirked, and Lance pouted. Pictures were so annoying. Still, he trooped outside with his family, and smiled when his dad set the camera on a timer and rushed to get in the picture. With Aleja wrapping her arms around him on one side and his mother and Nana on the other, he knew he was already home.
--------------
Nine years had passed since then. Lance grinned, looking at the photo his family had taken in front of the then-new house. He was so small at eight years old. His Nana was still giving vague warnings, eyeing him shrewdly whenever he went to swim. Such trust. He never had gone down to that cove, though it was easily visible from the top of the bluff that stood a little ways from his house.
No, he had kept his swimming to the small beach in front of the house. Had stayed away from the “shark infested waters”. Even though sharks were unlikely in this area. Even though sharks were pretty damn cool. There was something about his grandmother’s eyes that made him hesitate whenever he contemplated going. Whenever he needed time to think.
He fell back onto his bed. He liked the west coast, he really did. But sometimes he wished for beaches that were more than rock and ground up shells, water that was bearable for more than a month or two in the warmest season, and sun. God, he missed the sun. Like, actual sun and warmth that wasn’t filtered through three layers of clouds at any given moment. He wasn’t homesick, per se- no, it was just that when it rained for weeks on end, Cuba’s sunny beaches grew rather appealing. The rain had wormed its way into his heart, though. The ocean, too. Different from the warmth and calm of his early childhood, its slate gray storming called to him. Especially when it matched how he felt-
“Laaaaaaaance get down here!” Lance groaned. Nine years later, and his sister was still bossing him around. Loudly. She could have had the decency move away after she finished high school, he thought, thudding down the stairs in a way that brought to mind a very small elephant. But noooooo, she had to stay and help Nana, and all the expectations for college and good grades and a fancy job fell to him. And on top of that, she used her 23 years as a point of superiority.
“What is it?!” he yelled back, only a room away now.
“Hunk’s here to see you!” Ah. Embarrassing. All previous statements retracted, his sister was kind and loving, a veritable goddess.
“Tell him I’ll be right there!” he called, walking through to the door. Hunk was shifting on the doorstep, a stack of books and papers in his arms. He grinned broadly when he saw Lance, and tried to wave before remembering his hands were otherwise occupied.
“Hey buddy! I came over to see if you wanted to study for that big AP Physics test we have in a couple days? I’m freaking out and I’m pretty sure you are too. Otherwise there’s no way you’re human.”
Lance groaned and slumped against the doorframe. “Don’t remind me, that’s been hanging over my head all weekend. Maybe I’ll just fake sick or something that day.”
“Yeah, but then you’d still have to make it up, and the anticipation would kill you,” Hunk said, pushing his way into the house.
“I’m pretty sure that test will kill me anyways.” Lance followed as Hunk set his books on the table, and Aleja poked her head in.
“Do you guys want anything? Nana and I just made cookies and they’re pretty good, if I do say so myself. Lance, if you want any take them now because after Hunk’s gone I won’t be so nice.” Hunk laughed while Lance pouted dramatically.
“Rude. Yeah, we’ll take some.” Aleja grinned and brought a plate in, smacking Lance’s hand when he reached for them before Hunk. She always showed her favoritism in the most annoying ways. The cookies, he hated to say, were delicious. Unfortunately, after they were gone there was no avoiding it. The stack of books and papers taunted him from the corner of his eye. He put his head on the table and groaned. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Oh well, nothing for it. He grabbed the first book his hand landed on, flipped to a random page, and started reading out loud. “In a chemical reaction where heat is gained or lost, the masses of the reactants and the products will be different. Even when the water is heated on…” Hunk grabbed the book out of his hand.
“Dude, chill. We haven’t even gotten to that unit yet. Let’s start at the beginning for review, yeah?”
Sometime later, when Lance’s brain was pretty much melted into mush, he heard the distinct sound of a car in the driveway. Looked at Hunk. Hunk looked back at him quizzically until- understanding. A beatific smile spread over his face
“Oh boy is that-”
“Yeah it is, come on.” They raced out the door. The car stopped. The door opened. And out came…
“Mateo!!” The seven year old boy’s head popped up and, seeing Hunk and Lance, he beamed. He ran and launched himself into Hunk’s arms, who picked him up and spun him around. Lance was next, and when that hugging was done Mateo flung himself at Hunk again for a real hug. Hunk smiled at Lance over Mateo’s head, and Lance’s heart melted, right then and there. Everyone loved Hunk (it was impossible not to, really), but Mateo adored him, and the feeling was mutual.
“How was your soccer match?”
A gap-toothed grin. “Amazing! We won, and I scored the final goal!”
“Wow, that’s great! I’m so proud of you!”
His mom stepped out of the car next, and laughed to see Mateo still clinging to Hunk. “Let the poor boy go, I’m sure he and your big brother are very busy.” Mateo pouted, but did as he was told. They all trooped inside, Lance and Hunk plunking down at the table again. To get back to studying. Ugh. He was so done.
“Look at you studying so hard, dear.” His mother kissed the top if his head. “I know you’ll do so well on that test. You’re so smart, you hardly need to study!” Lance's stomach dropped. Him, smart. Right.
Hunk left. The sun began to sink in the sky. Lance couldn’t bring himself to read one more word, do one more problem. They weighed at him, the expectations dragging his fingertips to the earth. So he did what he always did. He walked out of the house, down to the shore. Stood for a minute on the shell-sand beach. Waded forward into the icy water to which he had become so accustomed. Swam out, far. Let himself sink.
Lance watched the surface grow farther and farther away, bubbles rising all around, spiraling toward the sky. The waves pulled at his hair to surround his face, strands tickling his lips and freckles. His heartbeat pounded loud in his ears. His heart pulled him down. His fingertips pulled him down. His inadequacy pulled him down. He was drowning in it all.
Then- a flash to his right. Something grey and sleek. Lance righted himself, terror taking hold of his body for two infinite seconds. Prey, his subconscious whispered to him. To whatever this creature is, you are prey.
He swam up. Quickly, quietly. Calmly. Can they smell fear? Can they hear the blood pounding in my veins? Lance broke the surface and gasped, turning and stroking for land, thanking whatever God out there that the tide was going in and he hadn’t swam as far out as he could have.
A ripple to his right. He wasn’t thinking of every stupid horror movie involving sharks his friends had dragged him to. Wasn’t thinking of the shark documentaries he’d watched as a kid. Tried not to imagine what teeth would feel like in his leg, or arm, or torso. He tried.
At last, solid ground under his feet, all limbs intact, a stumbling run away from the water. When Lance finally looked back, a good twenty feet from the breaking waves, he saw nothing. No circling fin, no unnatural ripples, no looming teeth. He almost felt silly for his panic, but- he’d been there. He’d seen something. Granted, not enough to actually describe what it was, but he trusted his gut. And his gut said that whatever had been there was decidedly not friendly.
...
Lance hadn’t swum in three days. He’d waded in, no farther than his waist, but it wasn’t the same. His coping mechanism was basically crippled, and he was a mess. To make matters worse, the important test for AP Physics was today. And Lance you’re so smart he had to do well.
Hunk walked next to him down the hallway, looking at him sympathetically. He had the test today too, but he didn’t have his entire family’s pressure and expectations riding on him to do perfectly. Lance felt someone come up behind him. He turned, then looked down, and saw a familiar, if not friendly, face.
“Pidge, you look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
Hunk looked at her worriedly. “You weren’t up all night studying for the test, were you?”
Pidge kept her eyes to the floor. “No, but I did study a lot. It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“A friend of mine, Keith, he disappeared the night before last. He doesn’t have his phone and there aren’t any leads as to where he might be. I’m just really worried.”
Lance pulled her into a hug. She wasn’t much for physical contact usually, but he was pretty sure this was a special case. His mind flashed unbidden to his scare four days earlier. No, it couldn’t be.
Pidge tolerated the hug for a couple more seconds before pulling away and turning to continue walking. Lance and Hunk followed, feeling their doom encroach at every step closer to the classroom. They entered the room. Sat down. He fiddled with his pencil. The test was handed out. He looked down. And began.
Lance slouched home. He was mush. Maybe he could change his name and become an isolated sheep herder in Iceland. He didn’t want to think about anything, least of all the test he was sure he had bombed. He wanted to swim. He wanted to forget. But that goddamned fear kept him from doing anything of the sort. It began to rain.
It had been building all day, clouds growing and towering over each other, the sort of downpour that was like a breath held, then released. It was absolution. It was kind. It washed away any thoughts he might have had, gentle in it’s fury. He let out a sigh, full of relief or pain or sadness. Without meaning to, his feet turned from the direction of his house, brought him to the path that led up to the bluff that overlooked the ocean, led him up, closer and closer to the sky and the raging sea.
He sat on the bluff and did not look down, for once. Did not so much as glance to the banned cove. Just closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sky, letting the rain fall on his face furiously, tenderly. Let the noise of the downpour and the sea drown out the noise of his life. If I were to leave, I would miss this. The thought flashed across his mind, quick as a whip. It surprised him. He knew he had begun to like the rain; he hadn’t realized the extent to which he had started to love it. He opened his eyes and drank in the sight of the imposing gray clouds. He did not look down.
If he had, perhaps many things would have been very different. Or perhaps not.
Time passed. The rain slowed to a gentle mist. Lance picked himself up and brought himself home. Walked in the door. Climbed the stairs to his room. Flopped onto his bed. He was calm. Everything wasn’t better, his anxieties hadn’t left, but he could close his eyes and let go the rushing worry in his brain, at least for a little while.
...
Lance’s family sat around the table. It was not quiet. Mateo waved his fork, caught up in an enthusiastic discussion with Aleja. His father teased Nana about the new hat she had bought. It certainly was… interesting. The feather was a nice touch. His mother, however, was uncharacteristically grave. He eyed her throughout the time it took to finish the first helping on his plate, and halfway through the second. His dad kept the corner of his gaze trained on her during the breaks in his discussion. His mom drew in a breath and set her fork down with a clink. Conversation stopped immediately. All except for poor Mateo, who kept on chattering excitedly until realising, rather abruptly, that he was the only one talking. His sentence trailed off quickly after that. Lance had to stifle a grin behind his hand.
His mom turned and trained an intense look on him. Lance’s heart sank before even knowing what she was going to say. Whatever that look heralded, it wasn’t good. “Lance, I don’t want you swimming anymore.” A beat of silence. Two.
“What!?” Lance was only dimly aware of the fact that he was standing and his chair had clattered backwards. “Why not?! You can’t just ban me from swimming!”
“Lance, sit down.” His father’s voice, grave and quiet. He sat.
“Why not?” he repeated, quieter this time.
His mother sighed. “A boy went missing recently. His tracks led down to the water, but didn’t come out again. No body’s been found, but police are pretty sure he’s…” She trailed off. Looked down. “He hasn’t been found, okay? People are thinking it could have been a shark or something similar. I just want you to be careful.”
Lance's stomach clenched. His hands turned to ice. A shark or something. He tried not to think about the last time he swam, the flash of smooth gray in his peripheral vision. Then the rest of his brain caught up. A missing boy… Oh no, it couldn’t be Pidge’s friend Keith, could it? Oh no. He resolved to bring her cookies. And hugs. And- dammit.
He nodded mutely. “Yeah, okay, I won’t swim. I don’t want to be eaten by a shark. I’d probably give it a stomachache. I’m too boney to be delicious.” He tried for a smile, but it came out looking weak and wan. His mom looked surprised. She probably wasn’t expecting him to agree that quickly. She nodded once, sharply. Looked to Mateo and Aleja.
“That means you guys too. I don’t want any of you swimming.”
“Awwwwww,” Mateo complained. A sharp look shut him up quickly. Aleja just nodded, looking down at her plate. He could see the distraught look on her face.
A small hmph drew his attention to the other side of the table where his Nana sat. She had a solemn, yet triumphant glint in her eye. “What did I tell you? The water isn’t safe. Especially not the water by that cove.” They all looked at her for a minute. She shrugged. “I was right, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” Not having anything to say to that, dinner continued in silence.
...
The next day, the sun rose, bringing with it a rise in anxiety for Lance. Tests were going to be handed back today, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. His family was resting their hopes on him, sure he would be the one to go to college and make them proud. He had to do well. What if this was the test where they found out? Where they learned he wasn’t actually smart after all, where he, Lance, was exposed for the fraud he was. He knew he shouldn’t have taken AP Physics, he didn’t belong in that class, that was only for real intelligent people, not him-
“Lance, you lump, get up or you’ll be late for school!” His sister, again. It took a monumental effort to drag himself out of bed, his brain sticking to the pillow, saying, no it’s fine I’d rather just stay here for today, thank you very much. He gritted his teeth, gave a herculean push, and rolled to the floor. Great. He lived here now.
Footsteps stomped up the stairs. His door slammed open. Aleja bent over him, a wicked grin on her face, her curly brown hair tickling his forehead. “I heard that thump all the way from downstairs. That had to have hurt. Now, if you won’t actually get up I’ll have to resort to extreme measures.” Lance gave a flat stare. Her grin turned positively menacing. “Alright, I warned you.”
Without further preamble, Aleja began tickling him. He shrieked, scrambling to get away. “No no I concede see I’m up I’m up I’m up!” She chased him down the stairs, hands outstretched for his sensitive sides. She was laughing so hard it was a miracle she didn’t fall over. Twenty minutes, twelve glares, and no skincare routine later, Lance was out the door. It wasn’t until he was nearly at school that it dawned on him that Aleja had successfully distracted him from overthinking. A small smile curved his lips.
Hunk gave him a smile that looked like he was on the verge of throwing up when he walked into the classroom. Pidge honestly didn’t look much better, face pale (paler than usual, at least), hair a mess (again, more so than usual). As promised, he brought her cookies, and she offered a wan smile in return, but said nothing. Lance didn’t really blame her.
The moment of truth approached. The teacher gathered up the stack of tests and began handing them out. The first row. The second row. The third row. Lance’s, the fourth, row. The girl next to him’s paper landed on her desk. Lance’s paper drifted down to his. It was an instant that seemed to stretch out forever. He turned it over. His stomach dropped.
A bright red 33/40 was circled at the top of his page. A “B”. He had gotten a “B”. His eyes frantically scanned that paper, taking in all the stupid, stupid mistakes he had made. A “B”. It was good, he supposed, for other students, the test had been hard, but he had to do better. What would his mom say? She had thought he was so smart, that would all be ruined now, what was he going to do? The thoughts raced through his head, one after the other after the other. What an idiot Lance had to have been, to think he could possibly do well. His stomach hurt.
After class Hunk came up to him, a cheery smile on his face. “That actually didn’t go as bad as it could have! I think all that studying we did helped, thanks Lance.” Lance gave a noncommittal grunt, hunching up his shoulders. He just wanted to go home. He pushed out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of the neat, perfect 40/40 circled on Pidge’s paper.
Lance took that back. He didn’t want to go home. He colossally, desperately, did not want to go home. He didn’t want to have to face his mom’s eventual disappointment, see his brother’s smile fall off his face, see Aleja try to act like everything was fine. He couldn’t stand the thought of any of it, couldn’t stand being trapped in a house full of his failure with no way to escape. So he didn’t go home. And, for the first time in 17 years, he disobeyed his grandmother.
...
The path down to the cove was rocky, with overgrown bushes competing to push away the open space. Lance nearly turned his ankle multiple times scrambling down the steep slope, loose pebbles and dirt threatening to pull his feet from under him. His mind was full, too full, and yet empty as the space between the stars at the same time. He couldn’t think. He was thinking too much. He should have done better. He wasn’t smart enough to have done better. He-
The trail opened up before him. The cove was small. Bigger than it looked from the top of the cliff, but small nonetheless. The slick black rocks towered, marching down to the water on the edges before giving way to gray-white shell-sand and pebbles in the middle. Barnacles crept up the sides. They were the ancient kind, huge, the size of a cat’s paw. The biggest barnacles he’d seen were the size of his thumbnail, but these- they looked like they hadn’t been touched by human hands for years. He’d skinned his knees and palms enough times on the smaller variety that he shuddered to think what the larger ones would do. The smell of brine invaded his nose, much more concentrated than the clean salt air on the top of the bluff. The waves crashed against the rocks, echoing against the walls of the cliffs, drowning out thought and the whistling wind. As wild as it was, it was also peaceful. Calming. Private.
Lance clambered up one of the tallest rocks, one with a flattish top, and just sat. He stared out over the water and let the push and pull of the waves set his mind at ease. There was, of course, the niggling feeling in the back of his brain that told him he really really really shouldn’t have disobeyed his Nana, but it was largely ignored in favor of his wonder at this place. It was so secret, so personal, so out of the way and private; it was exactly what he needed. But more than that, it was lovely. This place truly felt like home.
So he sat. And let himself go. And if a few tears were shed, well, no one had to know. The sun was reaching the point in the sky where it began its true descent into dusk when it happened. A ripple in the water. At first it was hardly noticeable, simply a part of the choppiness of the waves. But it happened again. And again. And again, in too regular a pattern for it to be a natural occurrence. Lance’s heart stopped in his chest.
A flash of gray, heart-stopping terror, a frantic, smooth swim to the shore. He shook his head. No, there was no way the shark, or whatever it was, would be this close to shore. It just wasn’t plausible. His heart calmed. Persistently, in the back of his mind, was his Nana’s voice. You shouldn’t have come, it said. You really should not have come. He thought about that boy who disappeared into the water, Pidge’s friend Keith. Had the thing that scared Lance actually gotten him, or had he simply swam, and drowned, or swam, far far away where nobody would ever find him? Just said fuck it, and left? That’s what Lance wanted to think. That Keith wasn’t dead, but far away from his troubles. Yeah, right.
The ripples were back. The fear was back. Lance stared at the ocean, resolve wavering. Maybe his Nana was right. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. He should probably get up and leave, right now, forget that he ever came down here. He was about to, but-. But. The cove really was lovely, and he was on land, so therefore safe. And not to mention, more than a little curious. It would be fine if he stayed, right? Just to see what was causing the ripples. It probably wasn’t even what he had seen the other day. He didn’t want to have to climb back up the trail so soon, anyway. Even to Lance’s ears, they sounded a lot like excuses. But he stayed.
So when the head, the human head, rose out of the water, all black eyes and black hair and gray-tinted skin, when it smiled at him with teeth that were far, far too sharp, Lance was there. Saw the human arms as they reached above water. Saw the scarred human torso as it rose up, up. Saw the tail, a deep, deep indigo, with fins along the side and scales, as it dove under the waves again. Lance saw it all.