[Fic] Beneath the Surface - (1/?) Charles/Erik
Title: Beneath the Surface (1/?)
Fandom: X-Men: First Class, Charles/Erik
Genre: AU; Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter, possibly up to NC-17 later.
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Charles is a young marine biologist and activist that, one day, makes the find of his lifetime. Inspired by this fanart
Author's Note: Un-beta'ed. Started writing this after inspiration struck me two days ago ^^ I am very sure I'll finish this and will be updating frequently, though, as I've mapped out the entire plot already.
The water was nearly black, dark waves curling around the row of the small fishing boat as it departed further from the Long Island shore. It always gave him a sense of serenity, the soft whooshing of the waves and the salty smell and taste in the air, crisp and fresh before the sun would heat it up and chase away the morning chill.
As far as he could think back, Charles Xavier had always loved the ocean. He had never been afraid of the dangers lurking beneath the calm and peaceful surface, of mighty currents or deadly marine animals; no fear of unknown depths that stretched out vastly beneath him, impenetrable darkness and pressure so great that no human could survive it. Everything in the water fascinated him more than anything on land ever could. The myths and legends surrounding it, the deep blue full of secrets that stretched out beneath him. He had sucked up every tiny bit of knowledge from his early childhood days on like a sponge, eagerly awaiting every weekend or summer holiday that would lead him from his family's New York home to the sea. Here, he felt completely free, but at the same time more connected to the world than in any city, any crowd, or any other place.
He took a deep breath to let his lungs fill with the oxygen-rich air, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. Then, the serene feeling turned into a sense of melancholy as he reminded himself what he was here for today. He turned around to face his foster-sister who stood at the helm of the boat, her yellow windbreaker wrapped around her tightly. As soon as the sun rose, it would be warm and pleasant, but in the early hours of dawn and with the sea breeze strong these days, even late July was cool.
"You think we'll find him today?" She tried to sound hopeful, but Charles couldn't miss the exasperated undertone, and his heart warmed at the knowledge that she did this for him.
Raven had never shared his passion for the oceans and marine life. As a child and teenager she had enjoyed their beach vacations, but more for the prospect of getting a tan and splashing around in shallow water, always a little frightened of the fish and most of all sharks. Although Charles had told her, as a twelve-year-old boy, then, that the risk of her being struck by lightning was much greater than being killed by a shark. She had developed quite a fear of thunderstorms after.
"I'm not sure. It all depends on whether Alex has overheard the conversation correctly or not."
Alex, a young man that worked for the local fishermen around Hampton (and who had had an unfortunate and unrequited crush on Raven for quite some time) had told her about having caught a few words of a conversation between two men about a planned fishing trip to the open waters off coast. And that the name Shaw had been mentioned.
Shaw was a man well-known among marine conservationists and recorded on the Greenpeace blacklist for engaging in several illegal fishing operations. He was a rich man who mainly lived in Florida, but as rich men often are, he didn't stop short of all sorts of sordid activities that would even enlarge his riches. As a clever businessman, he was able to camouflage his involvement in shark finning and whale hunting, but as a private person he didn't bother hide his interest in sport fishing; he didn't have to.
Since Charles had decided to become a marine biologist and had started to support several organizations to protect the oceans, a lot of things had changed and improved. The legislative authorities had banned shark finning and whale hunting, but catching a shark and delivering its full carcass was as legal as was squashing a mosquito, and though believed to be less gruesome than simply cutting off the fins and throwing the still alive torso back into the ocean, it was still a brutal and cruel deed with crucial consequences for the balance of life in the ocean and, as a result, for the entire planet.
"I just hope we don't get into trouble." Raven's forehead was furrowed, a strand of blonde hair sticking to her cheek by the moisture of the sea breeze, and she bit her lower lip.
Charles crossed the distance between them and laid an arm around her shoulder before he gently brushed the strand of hair out of her face. "We're out on a fishing trip ourselves, for all he will know. I'll do my utmost not to let him notice that I'm filming him. Don't worry."
She gave him a brief smile in return, though her brow remained furrowed. "What exactly is it you want to accomplish with this?" The question wasn't reproachful, but it sent a small sense of uncertainty through Charles' gut anyway.
"Well, if we are indeed able to film him catch a Great White and show it to the public, we can raise people's awareness towards the subject. He's not simply catching a dogfish or a small Atlantic sharpnose. Shaw's after a trophy, the biggest, deadliest of all," Charles said, not able to hide the bitter tone of contempt in his voice. "There are only around 3500 Great Whites left in our oceans, Raven. As an apex predator, he is -"
"Of great importance for the health of our oceans and blah blah blah. Charles, I'm not one of your school children you make guided tours through the institute for. I know it."
Charles almost had to laugh when Raven had finished his sentence with nearly the exact wording he had planned. He smiled, nevertheless and shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Raven replied, her tone gentle and understanding despite the slight air of annoyance. "I get why this is so important to you. I'm just sometimes wondering whether it even makes any sense. Look at how much time and money you've put into your little crusades already."
"Well, I can't complain that I'm impoverishing myself with it," Charles replied and smiled to meet Raven's rather stern look now.
"Yes, I know. And it's all noble and great that you don't want to spend all of your parents' money on pointless luxury, but… When's the last time you dated anybody?"
This time, Charles really had to laugh out, and he shook his head as he leaned against the steering console and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm not quite sure I understand what my dating life has to do with my efforts to protect endangered species."
Raven groaned in exasperation. "You know, for someone who's pretty much a genius you can be quite dense sometimes." The words were more affectionately teasing than insulting to Charles; it had always been like this between them, as with any other pair of siblings he supposed even though he had been twelve when Raven had been adopted into their family. "You know, girls like other conversation topics once in a while than algae and corals. And showing them your 'groovy' collection of shark videos and pictures isn't really the best material for a romantic date either. And what's with that anyway: 'groovy'? Who talks like that?"
"Are you criticizing my parlance?" Charles replied, trying to keep a straight face but feeling the corners of his mouth twitch.
Raven threw her arms into the air and rolled her eyes as she walked over to the box with supplies they had brought. "See, this is why you don't get laid."
Charles felt it a little redundant to reply to that and turned around to look back at the open water, a faint orange glow on the horizon tinting the sky pink. She did have a point, probably, in a way, but the fact that, so far, Charles hadn't found anybody to share his interests and understand him enough to form a lasting relationship with them didn't diminish his passion for what was his profession, his hobby and pretty much his entire life.
"I do get laid, you know?" he said then as she handed him a cup of coffee. "That is if you don't decide to get in the way."
"That's not fair. You know that girl was a complete bimbo and only after your money. Which, unless she had grown a tail fin you wouldn't have given her anyway."
"All the more reason for you not to interfere," Charles replied admonishingly but inwardly amused.
"Okay, okay. My bad. It won't happen again." Raven took a sip of her own mug and looked out onto the ocean as well, straight towards the rising sun that would allow them to turn off the lights of their boat very soon, making them less noticeable for eyes that should not see them. "Next time I'll just let you screw a girl with the mental capacities of a shrimp."
Laughing again, Charles turned around and hugged her to his side, rubbing her back in an affectionate gesture. With their age difference of six years, he had always felt very protective of her, but it wasn't so bad to know that she sometimes was quite the same with him.
They moved the boat with low speed up and down the coastline until well after daylight had set in, the engine of the simple but effective vessel causing as little noise as possible. Raven was sitting on the ground, leaned against the railing and eating a sandwich, cursing the fact that she got no signal with her cell phone out here and couldn't text her girlfriend, when Charles suddenly spotted something in the distance. And, sure enough, he recognized the 'Hellfire' through his high performance binoculars some two thousand feet away.
"It's him."
"You sure?" Raven packed up her half-eaten sandwich and got up, taking the binoculars from him to get a look herself. Even without them, over the distance, the yacht was easy to spot, and it came closer, completing a route diagonal to them to a spot where underwater sandbars offered a higher chance to make a good catch.
"Yeah, I'm sure. This is where he comes to every year." And for good reason. Unlike Shaw's Florida home, where the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico waters were mainly inhabited by requiem sharks and Great Whites were a rather rare sight, the Northwest Atlantic between New Brunswick and New Jersey was the center of abundance. Spielberg had put his fictional movie setting for Jaws into New England for a good reason. Over the past two years, there had been increased sightings of Great Whites in the waters south of Long Island, and with these news had come Shaw.
Charles got back behind the helm and steered the boat onto a new course that would bring them closer to the larger vessel but still far away enough not to raise suspicions. At this time of summer, many people were out on the sea for fishing or sailing, and as long as Charles didn't do anything rash there was no reason for Shaw to see a potential threat in a small private fishing boat. He had even placed a fishing rod (without bait or hook) at the rear of the boat to make the camouflage perfect. His camera was firmly attached to the windshield of the helm, hard to spot over the distance even if someone were to take a closer look, and he checked it and adjusted its position already.
Raven remained quiet beside him, and Charles could practically feel the tension in her as she looked straight ahead where the white spot near the horizon became bigger and bigger. He would really have to thank her properly for putting up with his adventures and supporting him when she could. An all-inclusive weekend trip to Paris or London for her and Irene came to mind.
"Can you see anything yet?" she asked as she stretched her neck, and Charles took another look through his binoculars. The 'Hellfire' wasn't an overly large yacht, just one cabin deck and on top an open sun deck, but it was still impressive with its expensive, highly modern design and probably best technical equipment money could buy. What startled Charles when he let his gaze wander along the railing, though, was a harpoon fixed to the rear beside the fishing rods. So Shaw was really prepared for all eventualities and determined on slaughtering a Great White by all means. It made Charles sick to the stomach.
Charles wasn't opposed to the idea of killing animals for food - after all that was the natural order in wildlife as well - but there was a difference between controlled, organic farming with humane killing methods and a simple sport, an appetite for destruction that merely expressed a hunger for power.
Too angry to speak, he handed the binoculars over to Raven who, sure enough, must have spotted the same thing as he only a few seconds later.
"I wish a shark would just eat him - No! Don't say it." She had lifted her hand before he even could have corrected her (though he hadn't planned to) to say that sharks didn't technically eat humans. And he wasn't really inclined to wish it were different. He wanted Shaw to be made responsible for his crimes, and he wanted society to understand that there still was a lot of work to be done to make up for the wrongs committed against nature every day, but being killed… In the end such an accident would only fuel people's irrational fears further and be counter-productive to the cause.
"I suppose you owe Alex a bear. Let that be on me," Charles said, not really feeling as light-hearted as his words sounded. He turned the boat around a bit when he saw the Hellfire stop and berth, and he did the same in an appropriate distance, sitting down on the small bench at the helm while Raven took her spot at the fishing rod. With a few final adjustments, the camera had a perfect view on the rear of the yacht and would catch anything Shaw and his crew would do. The camera was connected to a small monitor in a side console of the boat, and both he and Raven were able to watch inconspicuously. Watch and wait.
It didn't take long until one of Shaw's men, a Latin-American and the very same Alex had overheard at the bar, started throwing chum into the water, a sure method to attract sharks if there were any around. Just a minute or so later, another man stepped out onto the rear deck, and judging by the captain's jacket and hat it was quite clear this must be Shaw himself. A blonde woman was at his side, wearing a tiny white bikini, and she didn't seem to care about fishing as she climbed the ladder to the sundeck and laid down on a recliner. Shaw, however, positioned himself at one of the rods and watched as the other man fixed a large piece of fish to a hook.
"What a pretentious jerk. He doesn't even want to get his own hands dirty," Raven snorted from her spot on the folding chair.
Charles could only nod.
As he watched on, Shaw did indeed take over the rod and sat comfortably in a large chair. Nothing happened for a good twenty or thirty minutes though until, finally, there was some movement on deck, another ship mate pointing at the starboard flank of the yacht. All others came to watch.
Charles' heart nearly gave out for a second when he recognized the distinguishable dorsal fin in the water, and he had to stop himself from getting up.
"Is that a Great White?"
He nodded at his sister, eyes fixed on the screen and the shark. The animal seemed to round the boat but it did not make an attempt to snap at any of the baits. Instead, it swam around the entire rear, disappearing from their sight behind the yacht, but judging by the two men and Shaw turning to the portside, the shark was still visible to them. Shaw then made a leap towards the harpoon, quickly turning the heavy apparatus around on its fixture and climbing a platform behind it to take aim. Charles' heart fluttered painfully in his chest for a few strained seconds until, with great relief, he saw Shaw curse and throw his hands down. The shark had gotten away.
There was some commotion on deck of the Hellfire a short while later, and Charles quickly understood why when he saw the trembling and straining fishing rod. But the men did not seem pleased, all three of them now standing at the railing and gesturing about, Shaw possibly even shouting at one of them, though of course Charles couldn't hear.
"Damn, I wish my girlfriend was deaf and not blind," Raven said. "I would've learned to read lips by now."
Charles barely raised an eyebrow at her rather inappropriate joke, no amusement able to stir in him with the tension of the moments. This was what he had come for, he wanted to film Shaw and put it out in the open - at the right moment, of course. Once he had obtained even more evidence against the man and his other criminal activities, at best. It only occurred to him then, or only sunk in completely, that to achieve this he would actually have to watch Shaw catch and slaughter an innocent animal, and he was desperately wrecking his brain for an alternative, some way to chase the shark off and spare its life while still getting what he needed. Of course, there was no way for this to happen. It was either or.
"Geez, what are they doing?" Raven had leaned forward to take a closer look at the monitor, and Charles shifted to the side to adjust the focus of the camera, watching more closely as Shaw leaned over the railing and pulled up the line. The fish previously attached to it was almost completely gone, bitten off neatly just before the hook.
"You almost sound like you want them to succeed."
"No, of course not. I mean… damn it, Charles. Don't you?"
There was no need to reply to this; he understood completely what was on her mind as it had been on his. Yet, he felt a swell of pride and admiration for the shark that had been smart enough to catch a bite but not get tangled up in the hook. It would only prolong things, however. Even if this one was gone, another one would appear.
Shaw seemed to think along the same lines as he ordered the Latin-American man to fix another piece of bait to the hook and threw out the line, the current around the yacht dragging it with and away. It took no more than a minute until the line strained so violently that Shaw seemed momentarily startled by the frantic jerking of the fishing rod. He started reeling the line in, but the pull the shark was exercising seemed too strong. Then, with a very sudden movement, the rod snapped back and almost hit Shaw square in the face, making him tumble backwards and flail about in what could only be fury with his arms.
Charles stared at the monitor, eyes wide and brow furrowed in wonder. That the shark had been lucky enough - probably rather than smart - to only bite off the bait without swallowing the hook once had been remarkable; what it was doing now, however, was something Charles could not quite explain. It almost seemed like the animal was playing with Shaw.
"Jesus Christ! Look!" Raven's startled call came simultaneous with his own surprise as the shark suddenly breached the surface and leapt up, aiming, clearly aiming for Shaw as if it recognized and understood. The man was just so lucky enough to tear himself away from the railing and out of harm's way before the Great White sank back into the depths, splashing water all over the rear of the yacht.
"I should not have said that I want him to be eaten. Holy shit, Charles! Have you seen that?"
Of course he had, but he didn't reply, his eyes still fixed on the monitor in amazement. There was a terrible beauty in the way a Great White leapt up through the waves, making a deadly bite for a seal or seagull, its massive body shooting through the spray as high as its own length. He had never seen or even heard of one doing this without a possible prey in sight, least of all to attack a boat of this size. This was stuff from horror stories and monster movies, the very thing any expert on sharks always stressed was not true, that they were no killers and only ever attacked out of error or to defend themselves. The latter was precisely what the shark was doing, though in such an untypically smart way that Charles was absolutely stunned.
Shaw, however, seemed less amazed and threatened but all the more determined to catch the shark, kill it. With frantic movements he was up again at the harpoon, aiming it around for the shark to reappear.
Then, several things happened in very quick succession. The shark breached again, its long pectoral fin almost touching the side of the yacht. The heavy spray of water knocked over the other man, making him stumble and slide over the railing. The Latin-American reached for his mate and pulled him up right before the mighty jaws rose from the surface. Then the harpoon shot out, and the animal was knocked backward mid-movement, the spear sticking in its side right above the pectoral fin.
"Oh God, he's got him," Raven moaned, clasping her hands as she turned her head to look towards the yacht although the distance was too great. But the monitor didn't give a complete picture anymore either, for the shark swam on fast, with powerful strokes, away from the yacht as quickly as it could. The wire of the harpoon unrolled until it strained in a firmly taut line from the rear of the Hellfire to the body of the shark. It was over now. A few more minutes, a gruesome spectacle of death throes, and the Great White would be dead, hauled on board. A new trophy for Shaw. And Charles would have it all on video.
But then something very unexpected happened, and Charles could not then explain how exactly it had come to pass. The wire of the harpoon became suddenly flaccid; the shark appeared to have dived and swam back towards the yacht. Then, with a movement so fast and powerful, water sprayed up around the head of the animal as it shot up right at the starboard corner of the rear, jumped, high and higher up and somehow, oddly, coincidentally, slung the wire around the fixture of the harpoon and another pole at the rear end and trapped Shaw right between it, just a tiny corner of space left for him not to be strung to death by the wire immediately.
"Oh my God," Raven gasped as Charles watched the men struggle to free their captain. The shark had dived again and was pulling on the wire. The commotion on the deck now became panicked and hasty, even the blonde woman had risen from her recliner and descended the ladder, and there was sheer fright visible on all their features. It was she who finally jumped to the harpoon and pulled a lever that released the wire just a split-second before it had strained completely, before Shaw would have been pulled over board or worse: cut in half.
Charles finally dared to breathe, and he wasn't quite sure which part of his relief was greater: that for the shark having escaped or for Shaw and his men not having been harmed. He had no time to process his conflicting thoughts, however, as Raven shrieked and slapped him across the upper arm. When he looked up and followed her wild gaze, he saw the fin come up in the distance, somewhere halfway between the Hellfire and his own boat, the harpoon sticking out of the water.
"Oh my God, he's gonna attack us," Raven said, voicing the same fears many humans shared when facing sharks, fears Charles would have rebutted just half an hour ago, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.
The shark turned off though, its fin sinking beneath the surface and vanishing from sight. The monitor, however, showed Shaw and his crew all staring in the direction the animal had disappeared, and also straight at them, and Charles decided it was time to get away before they might get the idea he'd be any trouble. He had enough footage anyway, though, after what he had just observed, Charles wasn't sure whether sharing it with the world to advocate shark rights was still a wise idea. Not when this particular specimen had disproved the harmlessness of these majestic animals.
Pulling in the anchor, Charles turned the boat around, not too drastically but enough to slowly head back to shore and away from the Hellfire that, with its size, was less maneuverable.
"What the hell was THAT?" Raven seemed to have held her breath until they were well on their way. She now stood right beside Charles, looking at him with narrowed eyes.
"I'm sorry, but I have no idea whatsoever. I've never seen anything like this."
"Oh I have," Raven snorted. "In 'Jaws'. Jesus, Charles, I know you love these beasts but that just wasn't a harmless 'misunderstood' creature. That thing was a monster."
She had a point, yet her words made anger swell in his chest that he just so managed to contain. "Was it? The shark was being attacked, hunted, Raven. Would you not try everything in your might to defend yourself if you realized someone was after your life?"
"Yeah, I would. But I'm not some freaking fish that's NOT supposed to be that intelligent," she almost cried, and he could clearly see that she was very shaken by the events she had just observed. "Besides, I don't think-" She gave a sudden shriek as something bumped against the boat from beneath, and Charles felt his own heart thud with slight panic.
He quickly looked around, tried to spot any danger in the mostly calm waters. He looked out left, right and rear, eyes squinting against the bright sunlight and its reflection on the soft waves. For a split-second, he thought to see a tail fin breaching the surface, but it was gone before he could spot it, swallowed by the depths. Gone. Until… something was there, something bright just barely floating on the surface, moving, a shape…
Charles throttled the engine and grabbed for the binoculars. And for the repeated time today his heart gave a loud thud with shock as he saw what the shape was.
"My God."
"What? What is it?" Raven asked urgently, panic in her voice, but there was no reason to be afraid now.
"It's a person. Raven, there's someone in the water. Quick, bring us closer." Charles pointed in the right direction as he unfastened the life belt from where it was strapped against the rear of the boat while his sister did as he had said. She had learned to steer a boat as a teenager, same as he, though she had never been as keen on it.
"Are you sure?" she asked nevertheless.
Charles felt frustrated. "Yes I'm sure." He squinted against the sunlight again, still saw what looked like a naked back, a dark-haired head, bobbing up and down on the waves. And there was something else…
The second it had taken him to glance through the binoculars again, the body was gone, only a hand still visible, sinking beneath the surface around 120 feet away from them.
"No. No, no, no, no!" Charles gasped, his eyes not diverting from the spot the man had sunken. "There… wait… Now stop!"
"There's nobody here." Raven sounded quite alarmed now, even more so when Charles opened the small gate at the rear. "What the hell are you doing? Charles!!"
"There's someone drowning in the water, I can't just let them die!" he retorted as quickly as he could and threw the life belt into the ocean, swallowing his fear and panic and leaving only his instinct to save a life if he could.
Raven's frantic calls were drowned out as the cool water engulfed him and he sank fully under. The salty water barely stung in his eyes as he looked around, desperate to catch a glimpse of the person he had seen. And hoping, praying that the injured and infuriated shark was nowhere near.
He caught movement out of the left corner of his eye, a bright shape in the dark water, sinking, sinking further, and he dived. Holding in his breath for as long as he could, pushing himself down with strong strokes against the heavy pull of his clothes. Bubbles and waves around him, a frantic movement in the depth, fighting against unconsciousness, and for a moment, Charles thought he saw the tail of a shark in the chaos of shape, light and water. Then, finally, his hand grasped something, felt smooth skin, an arm, a shoulder, firm muscles straining and stretching. And then he had him, pulled him up and swam back as fast as possible, ignoring the pressure in his ear drums making him dizzy.
With a loud gasp for breath he reached the surface, felt the warm, bright sun on his face and blinked. He barely saw Raven's outstretched hands, heard only little of her calls and cries of worry and fear over the drumming in his ears. He pushed the man upward, and, a few moments later collapsed gasping onto the deck, lying on his back and catching his breath when he knew he was safe. And the man would survive as well.
Still dizzy and momentarily unable to move, Charles heard soft coughing from beside him and an odd kind of flapping noise that he couldn't quite pinpoint. A groan then, a strangled, gargling, helpless sound. No movement or word from Raven, no feet scurrying over the floor, no questions or words of comfort, and Charles suddenly sobered up with fearful confusion. His gaze found his sister first, her form pressed against the helm into the farthest corner, chest heaving, eyes wide and mouth open in pure and utter terror, and it shook Charles then. Made him think for a moment that all the excitement of diving into the water, all the adrenaline, had impaired his perception in a common but horrible effect, that maybe the shark had reappeared after all, for he had seen something move in the water directly beside the man, had maybe like in some horror movie bitten off the man's legs or Charles' own. And he almost didn't dare look down, look back to where the man must be lying, fear suddenly coursing ice-cold through his veins.
But he had to, and by now he would have started feeling something, would have smelt the blood. And so he raised his head and upper body, looking down himself and finding him soaked but unscathed. Then, he looked back towards the rear.
He almost stumbled up, a shriek of surprise and shock escaping his own lips at what he saw. At what clearly must be an illusion, a feverish hallucination. He rubbed his eyes and closed them for a moment, taking two, three deep breaths before he dared opening them, but the sight remained the same.
The man lay there, flat on his stomach, naked upper body with firm and slender muscles, in a puddle of seawater and blood on the white plastic flooring. A spear stuck out from above his shoulder blade. And the lower body of a Great White shark, from its first dorsal fin down, stretched out over the edge of the rear through the still open gate.
Oh my God.
The man… creature trembled, and those gargling sounds were still being pressed out of his throat. His arms and fingers twitched as if he tried to push himself up, but he couldn't. Helpless, wounded, fighting death. His sounds the only thing to be heard in the sudden dead silence.
Charles was on his hands and knees, and he realized that he was trembling, too, as he slowly, carefully tried to reach for the man.
"Don't touch it!" Raven called, her voice high, words stumbling over her lips. "Oh my God, oh my God. What the fuck…"
But Charles didn't listen, couldn't just leave that suffering, severely wounded being lie there and die. His trembling fingertips reached the cold, pale shoulder then, and the man jerked, head shooting up, and Charles looked straight into a pair of sea green eyes that reflected terror, fear and the desperate want to not, not, NOT die.
"Help me." The gasped plea died down in a wave of coughs, water dripping from the man's mouth and the gills on his neck. Gills. Charles had only noticed them now, and for a second he thought he should just throw the creature back into the water because it would surely die on land. Before he could have contemplated the thought any further, his attention was back on the harpoon. Shaw's harpoon, and suddenly everything seemed to make sense. Only that it didn't.
"Raven, get me the first aid kit," he said with shaky voice and looked back at his sister who still stood, frozen in shock for a few more moments before she started to move. He carefully, slowly came closer to the man… shark… whatever he was, and knelt down at his side to get a closer look at the wound, and for the next few minutes he managed to block out the constant reeling question of 'what the utter hell is that?' in his mind. There was time for that later.
"You're losing a lot of blood," he said, hoping the man would react to his words, would prove himself to be a reasonable creature one could interact with like with a human being. "Don't move, alright. I'll help you."
The man nodded and his head sunk back onto the floor, eyes fluttering but trying to remain focused on Charles.
"Damnit. Raven get here immediately." Charles had no idea what to do. He had majored in biology and genetics, knew enough about mammal and fish organisms (it remained to be seen which family this creature belonged to) to know that the wound might very well be fatal if it had struck the lung. Chances of internal bleeding were high, and then there was the problem that removing the harpoon without a surgical kit would cause more damage than leaving it in.
"Shit, shit, oh my God," Raven mumbled as she squatted down beside him with shaky fingers, handing him a towel and opening the first aid kid.
"We need to get him to a hospital!" Charles laughed helplessly as he looked back at the lower body of the man, and imagined what it would look like if they hauled a creature half man, half shark into the ER. "I can't pull out the harpoon. It'll kill him. What the hell do we do?"
But Raven knew no reply, only looking at him with wide eyes.
The man groaned again, breathing in an out with difficulty. "No… no doctors. No humans. Please. No. Pull it out. Just…"
"I can't, my friend. It'll kill you. We need to get you to shore. We need to -"
"No!" The man struggled, and for a moment it seemed that he tried to get up, tried to escape. Then a heavy fit of coughs shook his entire body and he screamed in sheer agony, trembling, jerking with his tail fin slapping violently against the sides of the boat.
With a final gasp, he collapsed flat onto his front and moved no more.
“Charles, Charles. Oh my God, look.” But he saw it, could not tear his eyes from it. From the lower body of a shark that slowly but surely transformed into two, perfect, long and slender human legs.
~ TBC ~
Chapter 2
Fandom: X-Men: First Class, Charles/Erik
Genre: AU; Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter, possibly up to NC-17 later.
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Charles is a young marine biologist and activist that, one day, makes the find of his lifetime. Inspired by this fanart
Author's Note: Un-beta'ed. Started writing this after inspiration struck me two days ago ^^ I am very sure I'll finish this and will be updating frequently, though, as I've mapped out the entire plot already.
The water was nearly black, dark waves curling around the row of the small fishing boat as it departed further from the Long Island shore. It always gave him a sense of serenity, the soft whooshing of the waves and the salty smell and taste in the air, crisp and fresh before the sun would heat it up and chase away the morning chill.
As far as he could think back, Charles Xavier had always loved the ocean. He had never been afraid of the dangers lurking beneath the calm and peaceful surface, of mighty currents or deadly marine animals; no fear of unknown depths that stretched out vastly beneath him, impenetrable darkness and pressure so great that no human could survive it. Everything in the water fascinated him more than anything on land ever could. The myths and legends surrounding it, the deep blue full of secrets that stretched out beneath him. He had sucked up every tiny bit of knowledge from his early childhood days on like a sponge, eagerly awaiting every weekend or summer holiday that would lead him from his family's New York home to the sea. Here, he felt completely free, but at the same time more connected to the world than in any city, any crowd, or any other place.
He took a deep breath to let his lungs fill with the oxygen-rich air, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. Then, the serene feeling turned into a sense of melancholy as he reminded himself what he was here for today. He turned around to face his foster-sister who stood at the helm of the boat, her yellow windbreaker wrapped around her tightly. As soon as the sun rose, it would be warm and pleasant, but in the early hours of dawn and with the sea breeze strong these days, even late July was cool.
"You think we'll find him today?" She tried to sound hopeful, but Charles couldn't miss the exasperated undertone, and his heart warmed at the knowledge that she did this for him.
Raven had never shared his passion for the oceans and marine life. As a child and teenager she had enjoyed their beach vacations, but more for the prospect of getting a tan and splashing around in shallow water, always a little frightened of the fish and most of all sharks. Although Charles had told her, as a twelve-year-old boy, then, that the risk of her being struck by lightning was much greater than being killed by a shark. She had developed quite a fear of thunderstorms after.
"I'm not sure. It all depends on whether Alex has overheard the conversation correctly or not."
Alex, a young man that worked for the local fishermen around Hampton (and who had had an unfortunate and unrequited crush on Raven for quite some time) had told her about having caught a few words of a conversation between two men about a planned fishing trip to the open waters off coast. And that the name Shaw had been mentioned.
Shaw was a man well-known among marine conservationists and recorded on the Greenpeace blacklist for engaging in several illegal fishing operations. He was a rich man who mainly lived in Florida, but as rich men often are, he didn't stop short of all sorts of sordid activities that would even enlarge his riches. As a clever businessman, he was able to camouflage his involvement in shark finning and whale hunting, but as a private person he didn't bother hide his interest in sport fishing; he didn't have to.
Since Charles had decided to become a marine biologist and had started to support several organizations to protect the oceans, a lot of things had changed and improved. The legislative authorities had banned shark finning and whale hunting, but catching a shark and delivering its full carcass was as legal as was squashing a mosquito, and though believed to be less gruesome than simply cutting off the fins and throwing the still alive torso back into the ocean, it was still a brutal and cruel deed with crucial consequences for the balance of life in the ocean and, as a result, for the entire planet.
"I just hope we don't get into trouble." Raven's forehead was furrowed, a strand of blonde hair sticking to her cheek by the moisture of the sea breeze, and she bit her lower lip.
Charles crossed the distance between them and laid an arm around her shoulder before he gently brushed the strand of hair out of her face. "We're out on a fishing trip ourselves, for all he will know. I'll do my utmost not to let him notice that I'm filming him. Don't worry."
She gave him a brief smile in return, though her brow remained furrowed. "What exactly is it you want to accomplish with this?" The question wasn't reproachful, but it sent a small sense of uncertainty through Charles' gut anyway.
"Well, if we are indeed able to film him catch a Great White and show it to the public, we can raise people's awareness towards the subject. He's not simply catching a dogfish or a small Atlantic sharpnose. Shaw's after a trophy, the biggest, deadliest of all," Charles said, not able to hide the bitter tone of contempt in his voice. "There are only around 3500 Great Whites left in our oceans, Raven. As an apex predator, he is -"
"Of great importance for the health of our oceans and blah blah blah. Charles, I'm not one of your school children you make guided tours through the institute for. I know it."
Charles almost had to laugh when Raven had finished his sentence with nearly the exact wording he had planned. He smiled, nevertheless and shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Raven replied, her tone gentle and understanding despite the slight air of annoyance. "I get why this is so important to you. I'm just sometimes wondering whether it even makes any sense. Look at how much time and money you've put into your little crusades already."
"Well, I can't complain that I'm impoverishing myself with it," Charles replied and smiled to meet Raven's rather stern look now.
"Yes, I know. And it's all noble and great that you don't want to spend all of your parents' money on pointless luxury, but… When's the last time you dated anybody?"
This time, Charles really had to laugh out, and he shook his head as he leaned against the steering console and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm not quite sure I understand what my dating life has to do with my efforts to protect endangered species."
Raven groaned in exasperation. "You know, for someone who's pretty much a genius you can be quite dense sometimes." The words were more affectionately teasing than insulting to Charles; it had always been like this between them, as with any other pair of siblings he supposed even though he had been twelve when Raven had been adopted into their family. "You know, girls like other conversation topics once in a while than algae and corals. And showing them your 'groovy' collection of shark videos and pictures isn't really the best material for a romantic date either. And what's with that anyway: 'groovy'? Who talks like that?"
"Are you criticizing my parlance?" Charles replied, trying to keep a straight face but feeling the corners of his mouth twitch.
Raven threw her arms into the air and rolled her eyes as she walked over to the box with supplies they had brought. "See, this is why you don't get laid."
Charles felt it a little redundant to reply to that and turned around to look back at the open water, a faint orange glow on the horizon tinting the sky pink. She did have a point, probably, in a way, but the fact that, so far, Charles hadn't found anybody to share his interests and understand him enough to form a lasting relationship with them didn't diminish his passion for what was his profession, his hobby and pretty much his entire life.
"I do get laid, you know?" he said then as she handed him a cup of coffee. "That is if you don't decide to get in the way."
"That's not fair. You know that girl was a complete bimbo and only after your money. Which, unless she had grown a tail fin you wouldn't have given her anyway."
"All the more reason for you not to interfere," Charles replied admonishingly but inwardly amused.
"Okay, okay. My bad. It won't happen again." Raven took a sip of her own mug and looked out onto the ocean as well, straight towards the rising sun that would allow them to turn off the lights of their boat very soon, making them less noticeable for eyes that should not see them. "Next time I'll just let you screw a girl with the mental capacities of a shrimp."
Laughing again, Charles turned around and hugged her to his side, rubbing her back in an affectionate gesture. With their age difference of six years, he had always felt very protective of her, but it wasn't so bad to know that she sometimes was quite the same with him.
They moved the boat with low speed up and down the coastline until well after daylight had set in, the engine of the simple but effective vessel causing as little noise as possible. Raven was sitting on the ground, leaned against the railing and eating a sandwich, cursing the fact that she got no signal with her cell phone out here and couldn't text her girlfriend, when Charles suddenly spotted something in the distance. And, sure enough, he recognized the 'Hellfire' through his high performance binoculars some two thousand feet away.
"It's him."
"You sure?" Raven packed up her half-eaten sandwich and got up, taking the binoculars from him to get a look herself. Even without them, over the distance, the yacht was easy to spot, and it came closer, completing a route diagonal to them to a spot where underwater sandbars offered a higher chance to make a good catch.
"Yeah, I'm sure. This is where he comes to every year." And for good reason. Unlike Shaw's Florida home, where the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico waters were mainly inhabited by requiem sharks and Great Whites were a rather rare sight, the Northwest Atlantic between New Brunswick and New Jersey was the center of abundance. Spielberg had put his fictional movie setting for Jaws into New England for a good reason. Over the past two years, there had been increased sightings of Great Whites in the waters south of Long Island, and with these news had come Shaw.
Charles got back behind the helm and steered the boat onto a new course that would bring them closer to the larger vessel but still far away enough not to raise suspicions. At this time of summer, many people were out on the sea for fishing or sailing, and as long as Charles didn't do anything rash there was no reason for Shaw to see a potential threat in a small private fishing boat. He had even placed a fishing rod (without bait or hook) at the rear of the boat to make the camouflage perfect. His camera was firmly attached to the windshield of the helm, hard to spot over the distance even if someone were to take a closer look, and he checked it and adjusted its position already.
Raven remained quiet beside him, and Charles could practically feel the tension in her as she looked straight ahead where the white spot near the horizon became bigger and bigger. He would really have to thank her properly for putting up with his adventures and supporting him when she could. An all-inclusive weekend trip to Paris or London for her and Irene came to mind.
"Can you see anything yet?" she asked as she stretched her neck, and Charles took another look through his binoculars. The 'Hellfire' wasn't an overly large yacht, just one cabin deck and on top an open sun deck, but it was still impressive with its expensive, highly modern design and probably best technical equipment money could buy. What startled Charles when he let his gaze wander along the railing, though, was a harpoon fixed to the rear beside the fishing rods. So Shaw was really prepared for all eventualities and determined on slaughtering a Great White by all means. It made Charles sick to the stomach.
Charles wasn't opposed to the idea of killing animals for food - after all that was the natural order in wildlife as well - but there was a difference between controlled, organic farming with humane killing methods and a simple sport, an appetite for destruction that merely expressed a hunger for power.
Too angry to speak, he handed the binoculars over to Raven who, sure enough, must have spotted the same thing as he only a few seconds later.
"I wish a shark would just eat him - No! Don't say it." She had lifted her hand before he even could have corrected her (though he hadn't planned to) to say that sharks didn't technically eat humans. And he wasn't really inclined to wish it were different. He wanted Shaw to be made responsible for his crimes, and he wanted society to understand that there still was a lot of work to be done to make up for the wrongs committed against nature every day, but being killed… In the end such an accident would only fuel people's irrational fears further and be counter-productive to the cause.
"I suppose you owe Alex a bear. Let that be on me," Charles said, not really feeling as light-hearted as his words sounded. He turned the boat around a bit when he saw the Hellfire stop and berth, and he did the same in an appropriate distance, sitting down on the small bench at the helm while Raven took her spot at the fishing rod. With a few final adjustments, the camera had a perfect view on the rear of the yacht and would catch anything Shaw and his crew would do. The camera was connected to a small monitor in a side console of the boat, and both he and Raven were able to watch inconspicuously. Watch and wait.
It didn't take long until one of Shaw's men, a Latin-American and the very same Alex had overheard at the bar, started throwing chum into the water, a sure method to attract sharks if there were any around. Just a minute or so later, another man stepped out onto the rear deck, and judging by the captain's jacket and hat it was quite clear this must be Shaw himself. A blonde woman was at his side, wearing a tiny white bikini, and she didn't seem to care about fishing as she climbed the ladder to the sundeck and laid down on a recliner. Shaw, however, positioned himself at one of the rods and watched as the other man fixed a large piece of fish to a hook.
"What a pretentious jerk. He doesn't even want to get his own hands dirty," Raven snorted from her spot on the folding chair.
Charles could only nod.
As he watched on, Shaw did indeed take over the rod and sat comfortably in a large chair. Nothing happened for a good twenty or thirty minutes though until, finally, there was some movement on deck, another ship mate pointing at the starboard flank of the yacht. All others came to watch.
Charles' heart nearly gave out for a second when he recognized the distinguishable dorsal fin in the water, and he had to stop himself from getting up.
"Is that a Great White?"
He nodded at his sister, eyes fixed on the screen and the shark. The animal seemed to round the boat but it did not make an attempt to snap at any of the baits. Instead, it swam around the entire rear, disappearing from their sight behind the yacht, but judging by the two men and Shaw turning to the portside, the shark was still visible to them. Shaw then made a leap towards the harpoon, quickly turning the heavy apparatus around on its fixture and climbing a platform behind it to take aim. Charles' heart fluttered painfully in his chest for a few strained seconds until, with great relief, he saw Shaw curse and throw his hands down. The shark had gotten away.
There was some commotion on deck of the Hellfire a short while later, and Charles quickly understood why when he saw the trembling and straining fishing rod. But the men did not seem pleased, all three of them now standing at the railing and gesturing about, Shaw possibly even shouting at one of them, though of course Charles couldn't hear.
"Damn, I wish my girlfriend was deaf and not blind," Raven said. "I would've learned to read lips by now."
Charles barely raised an eyebrow at her rather inappropriate joke, no amusement able to stir in him with the tension of the moments. This was what he had come for, he wanted to film Shaw and put it out in the open - at the right moment, of course. Once he had obtained even more evidence against the man and his other criminal activities, at best. It only occurred to him then, or only sunk in completely, that to achieve this he would actually have to watch Shaw catch and slaughter an innocent animal, and he was desperately wrecking his brain for an alternative, some way to chase the shark off and spare its life while still getting what he needed. Of course, there was no way for this to happen. It was either or.
"Geez, what are they doing?" Raven had leaned forward to take a closer look at the monitor, and Charles shifted to the side to adjust the focus of the camera, watching more closely as Shaw leaned over the railing and pulled up the line. The fish previously attached to it was almost completely gone, bitten off neatly just before the hook.
"You almost sound like you want them to succeed."
"No, of course not. I mean… damn it, Charles. Don't you?"
There was no need to reply to this; he understood completely what was on her mind as it had been on his. Yet, he felt a swell of pride and admiration for the shark that had been smart enough to catch a bite but not get tangled up in the hook. It would only prolong things, however. Even if this one was gone, another one would appear.
Shaw seemed to think along the same lines as he ordered the Latin-American man to fix another piece of bait to the hook and threw out the line, the current around the yacht dragging it with and away. It took no more than a minute until the line strained so violently that Shaw seemed momentarily startled by the frantic jerking of the fishing rod. He started reeling the line in, but the pull the shark was exercising seemed too strong. Then, with a very sudden movement, the rod snapped back and almost hit Shaw square in the face, making him tumble backwards and flail about in what could only be fury with his arms.
Charles stared at the monitor, eyes wide and brow furrowed in wonder. That the shark had been lucky enough - probably rather than smart - to only bite off the bait without swallowing the hook once had been remarkable; what it was doing now, however, was something Charles could not quite explain. It almost seemed like the animal was playing with Shaw.
"Jesus Christ! Look!" Raven's startled call came simultaneous with his own surprise as the shark suddenly breached the surface and leapt up, aiming, clearly aiming for Shaw as if it recognized and understood. The man was just so lucky enough to tear himself away from the railing and out of harm's way before the Great White sank back into the depths, splashing water all over the rear of the yacht.
"I should not have said that I want him to be eaten. Holy shit, Charles! Have you seen that?"
Of course he had, but he didn't reply, his eyes still fixed on the monitor in amazement. There was a terrible beauty in the way a Great White leapt up through the waves, making a deadly bite for a seal or seagull, its massive body shooting through the spray as high as its own length. He had never seen or even heard of one doing this without a possible prey in sight, least of all to attack a boat of this size. This was stuff from horror stories and monster movies, the very thing any expert on sharks always stressed was not true, that they were no killers and only ever attacked out of error or to defend themselves. The latter was precisely what the shark was doing, though in such an untypically smart way that Charles was absolutely stunned.
Shaw, however, seemed less amazed and threatened but all the more determined to catch the shark, kill it. With frantic movements he was up again at the harpoon, aiming it around for the shark to reappear.
Then, several things happened in very quick succession. The shark breached again, its long pectoral fin almost touching the side of the yacht. The heavy spray of water knocked over the other man, making him stumble and slide over the railing. The Latin-American reached for his mate and pulled him up right before the mighty jaws rose from the surface. Then the harpoon shot out, and the animal was knocked backward mid-movement, the spear sticking in its side right above the pectoral fin.
"Oh God, he's got him," Raven moaned, clasping her hands as she turned her head to look towards the yacht although the distance was too great. But the monitor didn't give a complete picture anymore either, for the shark swam on fast, with powerful strokes, away from the yacht as quickly as it could. The wire of the harpoon unrolled until it strained in a firmly taut line from the rear of the Hellfire to the body of the shark. It was over now. A few more minutes, a gruesome spectacle of death throes, and the Great White would be dead, hauled on board. A new trophy for Shaw. And Charles would have it all on video.
But then something very unexpected happened, and Charles could not then explain how exactly it had come to pass. The wire of the harpoon became suddenly flaccid; the shark appeared to have dived and swam back towards the yacht. Then, with a movement so fast and powerful, water sprayed up around the head of the animal as it shot up right at the starboard corner of the rear, jumped, high and higher up and somehow, oddly, coincidentally, slung the wire around the fixture of the harpoon and another pole at the rear end and trapped Shaw right between it, just a tiny corner of space left for him not to be strung to death by the wire immediately.
"Oh my God," Raven gasped as Charles watched the men struggle to free their captain. The shark had dived again and was pulling on the wire. The commotion on the deck now became panicked and hasty, even the blonde woman had risen from her recliner and descended the ladder, and there was sheer fright visible on all their features. It was she who finally jumped to the harpoon and pulled a lever that released the wire just a split-second before it had strained completely, before Shaw would have been pulled over board or worse: cut in half.
Charles finally dared to breathe, and he wasn't quite sure which part of his relief was greater: that for the shark having escaped or for Shaw and his men not having been harmed. He had no time to process his conflicting thoughts, however, as Raven shrieked and slapped him across the upper arm. When he looked up and followed her wild gaze, he saw the fin come up in the distance, somewhere halfway between the Hellfire and his own boat, the harpoon sticking out of the water.
"Oh my God, he's gonna attack us," Raven said, voicing the same fears many humans shared when facing sharks, fears Charles would have rebutted just half an hour ago, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.
The shark turned off though, its fin sinking beneath the surface and vanishing from sight. The monitor, however, showed Shaw and his crew all staring in the direction the animal had disappeared, and also straight at them, and Charles decided it was time to get away before they might get the idea he'd be any trouble. He had enough footage anyway, though, after what he had just observed, Charles wasn't sure whether sharing it with the world to advocate shark rights was still a wise idea. Not when this particular specimen had disproved the harmlessness of these majestic animals.
Pulling in the anchor, Charles turned the boat around, not too drastically but enough to slowly head back to shore and away from the Hellfire that, with its size, was less maneuverable.
"What the hell was THAT?" Raven seemed to have held her breath until they were well on their way. She now stood right beside Charles, looking at him with narrowed eyes.
"I'm sorry, but I have no idea whatsoever. I've never seen anything like this."
"Oh I have," Raven snorted. "In 'Jaws'. Jesus, Charles, I know you love these beasts but that just wasn't a harmless 'misunderstood' creature. That thing was a monster."
She had a point, yet her words made anger swell in his chest that he just so managed to contain. "Was it? The shark was being attacked, hunted, Raven. Would you not try everything in your might to defend yourself if you realized someone was after your life?"
"Yeah, I would. But I'm not some freaking fish that's NOT supposed to be that intelligent," she almost cried, and he could clearly see that she was very shaken by the events she had just observed. "Besides, I don't think-" She gave a sudden shriek as something bumped against the boat from beneath, and Charles felt his own heart thud with slight panic.
He quickly looked around, tried to spot any danger in the mostly calm waters. He looked out left, right and rear, eyes squinting against the bright sunlight and its reflection on the soft waves. For a split-second, he thought to see a tail fin breaching the surface, but it was gone before he could spot it, swallowed by the depths. Gone. Until… something was there, something bright just barely floating on the surface, moving, a shape…
Charles throttled the engine and grabbed for the binoculars. And for the repeated time today his heart gave a loud thud with shock as he saw what the shape was.
"My God."
"What? What is it?" Raven asked urgently, panic in her voice, but there was no reason to be afraid now.
"It's a person. Raven, there's someone in the water. Quick, bring us closer." Charles pointed in the right direction as he unfastened the life belt from where it was strapped against the rear of the boat while his sister did as he had said. She had learned to steer a boat as a teenager, same as he, though she had never been as keen on it.
"Are you sure?" she asked nevertheless.
Charles felt frustrated. "Yes I'm sure." He squinted against the sunlight again, still saw what looked like a naked back, a dark-haired head, bobbing up and down on the waves. And there was something else…
The second it had taken him to glance through the binoculars again, the body was gone, only a hand still visible, sinking beneath the surface around 120 feet away from them.
"No. No, no, no, no!" Charles gasped, his eyes not diverting from the spot the man had sunken. "There… wait… Now stop!"
"There's nobody here." Raven sounded quite alarmed now, even more so when Charles opened the small gate at the rear. "What the hell are you doing? Charles!!"
"There's someone drowning in the water, I can't just let them die!" he retorted as quickly as he could and threw the life belt into the ocean, swallowing his fear and panic and leaving only his instinct to save a life if he could.
Raven's frantic calls were drowned out as the cool water engulfed him and he sank fully under. The salty water barely stung in his eyes as he looked around, desperate to catch a glimpse of the person he had seen. And hoping, praying that the injured and infuriated shark was nowhere near.
He caught movement out of the left corner of his eye, a bright shape in the dark water, sinking, sinking further, and he dived. Holding in his breath for as long as he could, pushing himself down with strong strokes against the heavy pull of his clothes. Bubbles and waves around him, a frantic movement in the depth, fighting against unconsciousness, and for a moment, Charles thought he saw the tail of a shark in the chaos of shape, light and water. Then, finally, his hand grasped something, felt smooth skin, an arm, a shoulder, firm muscles straining and stretching. And then he had him, pulled him up and swam back as fast as possible, ignoring the pressure in his ear drums making him dizzy.
With a loud gasp for breath he reached the surface, felt the warm, bright sun on his face and blinked. He barely saw Raven's outstretched hands, heard only little of her calls and cries of worry and fear over the drumming in his ears. He pushed the man upward, and, a few moments later collapsed gasping onto the deck, lying on his back and catching his breath when he knew he was safe. And the man would survive as well.
Still dizzy and momentarily unable to move, Charles heard soft coughing from beside him and an odd kind of flapping noise that he couldn't quite pinpoint. A groan then, a strangled, gargling, helpless sound. No movement or word from Raven, no feet scurrying over the floor, no questions or words of comfort, and Charles suddenly sobered up with fearful confusion. His gaze found his sister first, her form pressed against the helm into the farthest corner, chest heaving, eyes wide and mouth open in pure and utter terror, and it shook Charles then. Made him think for a moment that all the excitement of diving into the water, all the adrenaline, had impaired his perception in a common but horrible effect, that maybe the shark had reappeared after all, for he had seen something move in the water directly beside the man, had maybe like in some horror movie bitten off the man's legs or Charles' own. And he almost didn't dare look down, look back to where the man must be lying, fear suddenly coursing ice-cold through his veins.
But he had to, and by now he would have started feeling something, would have smelt the blood. And so he raised his head and upper body, looking down himself and finding him soaked but unscathed. Then, he looked back towards the rear.
He almost stumbled up, a shriek of surprise and shock escaping his own lips at what he saw. At what clearly must be an illusion, a feverish hallucination. He rubbed his eyes and closed them for a moment, taking two, three deep breaths before he dared opening them, but the sight remained the same.
The man lay there, flat on his stomach, naked upper body with firm and slender muscles, in a puddle of seawater and blood on the white plastic flooring. A spear stuck out from above his shoulder blade. And the lower body of a Great White shark, from its first dorsal fin down, stretched out over the edge of the rear through the still open gate.
Oh my God.
The man… creature trembled, and those gargling sounds were still being pressed out of his throat. His arms and fingers twitched as if he tried to push himself up, but he couldn't. Helpless, wounded, fighting death. His sounds the only thing to be heard in the sudden dead silence.
Charles was on his hands and knees, and he realized that he was trembling, too, as he slowly, carefully tried to reach for the man.
"Don't touch it!" Raven called, her voice high, words stumbling over her lips. "Oh my God, oh my God. What the fuck…"
But Charles didn't listen, couldn't just leave that suffering, severely wounded being lie there and die. His trembling fingertips reached the cold, pale shoulder then, and the man jerked, head shooting up, and Charles looked straight into a pair of sea green eyes that reflected terror, fear and the desperate want to not, not, NOT die.
"Help me." The gasped plea died down in a wave of coughs, water dripping from the man's mouth and the gills on his neck. Gills. Charles had only noticed them now, and for a second he thought he should just throw the creature back into the water because it would surely die on land. Before he could have contemplated the thought any further, his attention was back on the harpoon. Shaw's harpoon, and suddenly everything seemed to make sense. Only that it didn't.
"Raven, get me the first aid kit," he said with shaky voice and looked back at his sister who still stood, frozen in shock for a few more moments before she started to move. He carefully, slowly came closer to the man… shark… whatever he was, and knelt down at his side to get a closer look at the wound, and for the next few minutes he managed to block out the constant reeling question of 'what the utter hell is that?' in his mind. There was time for that later.
"You're losing a lot of blood," he said, hoping the man would react to his words, would prove himself to be a reasonable creature one could interact with like with a human being. "Don't move, alright. I'll help you."
The man nodded and his head sunk back onto the floor, eyes fluttering but trying to remain focused on Charles.
"Damnit. Raven get here immediately." Charles had no idea what to do. He had majored in biology and genetics, knew enough about mammal and fish organisms (it remained to be seen which family this creature belonged to) to know that the wound might very well be fatal if it had struck the lung. Chances of internal bleeding were high, and then there was the problem that removing the harpoon without a surgical kit would cause more damage than leaving it in.
"Shit, shit, oh my God," Raven mumbled as she squatted down beside him with shaky fingers, handing him a towel and opening the first aid kid.
"We need to get him to a hospital!" Charles laughed helplessly as he looked back at the lower body of the man, and imagined what it would look like if they hauled a creature half man, half shark into the ER. "I can't pull out the harpoon. It'll kill him. What the hell do we do?"
But Raven knew no reply, only looking at him with wide eyes.
The man groaned again, breathing in an out with difficulty. "No… no doctors. No humans. Please. No. Pull it out. Just…"
"I can't, my friend. It'll kill you. We need to get you to shore. We need to -"
"No!" The man struggled, and for a moment it seemed that he tried to get up, tried to escape. Then a heavy fit of coughs shook his entire body and he screamed in sheer agony, trembling, jerking with his tail fin slapping violently against the sides of the boat.
With a final gasp, he collapsed flat onto his front and moved no more.
“Charles, Charles. Oh my God, look.” But he saw it, could not tear his eyes from it. From the lower body of a shark that slowly but surely transformed into two, perfect, long and slender human legs.
~ TBC ~
Chapter 2