Three days. It had been three days, and that was three days too long. Skye was in a slump. She went to class but couldn't pay attention. She worked at the diner but her customer service was less than sub par to say the least. She didn't even draw. She just walked around with her head down, hands in her pockets at a sluggish pace and her mother couldn't tell what was wrong with her. As far as she knew nothing had happened and Skye wouldn't open up about it. She couldn't.
She had been going to her and Jemma's two places at the beach, just to make sure there weren't any rock towers because Jemma had escaped and come back. There weren't any, and it just made her heart sink more, even though she knew Jemma not coming back was a good thing. She was safe. They could be a world away by now, as fast as they swam.
Skye had just left the beach after checking to make sure Jemma was still gone and was walking up to her house when she heard a familiar voice as a loud, rundown SUV pulled up along the sidewalk to her house. He was mad, she could tell just by his tone...she was glad he was mad. He could be in a rage and Skye would have been glad. She didn't even turn around, just kept walking for her porch.
There was a door slam and more yelling and by the time she reached for the screen door a big, thick hand was on her shoulder spinning her around and throwing her back into the yard.
Skye stumbled and fell, landing in the dirt and grass before she looked up with a sour expression at Ward.
"We know it was you!" He was shouting, but Skye didn't have the fight in her to defy him or deny it. She just wanted to be left alone but when she tried to get up she gasped hard, a swift kick to her gut sending her back down. Her arms held around her stomach and she tried to breathe, get air back into her lungs that the blow knocked away.
"We know it was you Skye, so where's your precious little mermaid?!" Ward drew back to kick her again and Skye cringed, bracing herself for the pain to come but it didn't.
"Stop that, boy," another car door shut and Skye scrambled to get up as Garrett came into the yard. She moved to leave but he grabbed her firmly by the face and held her there, chin up, and though her eyes were defiant, the rest of her was not.
"You cost me a lot of money and a lot of time and a lot of other things too. I'm not going to put up with your shit like my idiot boy, so you better tell me where the mermaid is and where you hid our tapes or things aren't going to get pretty for you."
Her mother wasn't home, the truck was gone and they were alone on the street. Garrett could probably kill her right now if he wanted to. Skye wondered if Jemma would be able to feel it...if she could feel it if she died or if she would just never know what happened to her while they were so far apart. Skye decided to take her chances.
"She's gone," she spat and tried to shake her chin free but he held firm, probably creating bruises on her cheeks, "she's far away and you're never going to find her again!" Garrett wasn't pleased and he let go only to smack her across the face hard enough to make her lip bleed. He wasn't done either because then he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and shook her, holding her up till she had to stand on her tip toes.
"Where is the evidence?! Where are the tapes?!"
"Y-you might want to ask the police department...I th-think someone anonymously dropped off some footage of you guys abusing animals," Skye's eyebrow rose and she could help it as a self satisfied smile spread across her face as a quick expression of horror passed over his.
Ward shouted and moved to come at her but his father held a hand out for him to stop. When he did, Garrett threw Skye to the ground and she shrieked when she landed hard on her wrist. She was just sitting up, holding her injured arm close to her chest with her other when she stared with wide eyes at what Garrett had taken out from under his vest.
She knew he was mad but she hadn't expected this level as the gun pointed at her face.
"Millions! Possibly billions! That's how much you cost me! We were going to be famous! We were going to prove the myth was real and make a fortune off your little fish friend. It was the discovery of a lifetime and you're telling me you set fire to my research and helped it escape?!"
She couldn't help it. She opened her mouth, "She's not an it! She is a person and living creatures don't deserve to be in your shit of a park! She is long gone and you're never going to get your filthy fucking hands on her ever again!"
He was in a rage. A blind rage at having been denied his shot at riches and fame, even at the expense of such a rare and beautiful creature, and he held the gun closer, putting his finger on the trigger.
"Well neither will you!"
Skye cried out and turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut, wincing and waiting for what was to come.
"Drop the gun! Drop the gun right now, sir and put your hands over your head!"
None of them had heard the sirens, too caught up in each other, but two officers were now pointing their own guns at Garrett and Ward.
Garrett was cursing but he dropped the gun as instructed and both he and Ward lifted their hands high over their heads.
"Turn around and get down on the ground! Now! On the ground! Put your hands on the back of your head!". The cops were coming into the yard as both men lowered themselves to the ground.
One was pointing his gun and calling over on his shoulder radio to more officers. As Skye got up, they had both father and son in handcuffs and were hauling them over to the police car, reciting them their rights as they went.
"You are under arrest for multiple counts of animal cruelty, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder and assist -" and to Skye's surprise the list kept growing as they moved out of earshot. One officer remained at the car while the other was coming back into the yard, helping Skye up.
"Are you alright?"
"Y-yeah..." Skye nodded but winced when she moved her wrist. It must be sprained...or broken because it was already bruising.
"Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions about what happened here?"
Skye shook her head, still trying to process everything since it had all happened so fast,
"N-no I don't mind..."
A husky voice came on over his radio and the cop responded, turning back to her and taking out a notebook and a pen and began to jot down the answers to his questions as she said them.
Eventually another police car pulled up and the one with Garrett and Ward left. One officer came up to Skye and started assessing her arm, bandaging it up before advising her to see a doctor.
The whole ordeal lasted about an hour before they all left and Skye was left alone with a sprained wrist and having almost died again.
Her heart was still pounding as she went into the house, and although she was sad that Jemma was gone...Ward and Garrett had been arrested and would probably be spending a lot of time in prison. They weren't going to be a threat for a long time and she only wished she could tell Jemma so that she could come back.
Dejected. It was one of many words that could easily be used to describe Jemma's emotional state as her pod traveled. Bobbi had dragged her back to the pod that night, and as they migrated they forced Jemma to come along with them, not willing to let her do any more damage or expose them again by going back to Skye. It took one hundred and fifty miles before Jemma gave in and stopped trying to get away every chance she got. She'd gotten to a point of sorrow that felt like a black hole, capturing all her energy and light and not letting it escape.
Once Jemma had thought about it further, she became bitter. It felt like Skye had given up on her, on them, and in the split second before she felt guilty for thinking it, she wondered if Skye still wore her necklace.
The worst part wasn't even that Skye had lied to her, even though that was terrible, it was that she stopped fighting for them. Clearly humans weren't as dedicated as mermaids were, and Jemma guessed she couldn't blame Skye for being born into a species with those characteristics, but she still felt angry about it.
Skye had just slammed this reality onto her that night. She brought her back to Bobbi and the water, letting her think she would be back, just so she didn't have to face the consequences of it. She had tried to spare herself having to see Jemma's reaction. She had known it was a goodbye, but she left Jemma to realize what had happened on her own. She didn't get the peace of knowing it was a permanent goodbye until it was too late. It was selfish. Humans were selfish and undedicated and Jemma should have known.
Skye was a human, she could move on and find someone adequate for her, someone with legs and the ability to understand everything about her. Just the thought felt like a jab in the throat. Skye would end up with someone else eventually, Jemma knew this. Humans didn't stay partners for life like merpeople did. It was in this way as well that Jemma felt like the unlucky one. Skye had been freed of the burden of her and she could choose from any number of people to be with, but for Jemma, there was nothing. That was it. Skye had been her partner and now Jemma could never be with anyone else again. Nobody would ever touch her scales or hold her at night. Jemma didn't have that opportunity anymore, she gave it up when she decided she wanted her partner to be a human.
Jemma had come to this conclusion by the third day, when they were so far away from Skye's island already that they wouldn't be going back for some time. Bobbi no longer had to hold onto Jemma's arm while they traveled, but Jemma hung back and swam slowly. Every time they were out of the water, whether inside a cave or on an uninhabited island or rock, Jemma would cry. It confused the rest of her pod and she didn't want to explain it like Skye did.
They thought she was sick. Coulson had even tried making a potion for her, but nothing would be able to stop Jemma's tears but herself. They didn't think she was any better when in the middle of their migrational miles for the day Jemma suddenly stopped, feeling queasy. The residual feeling in her stomach built up in a matter of minutes, and suddenly Jemma's heart seized and she felt pain in several different places, though she wasn't sure why until she remembered her necklace. Now being required to, Jemma had been wearing it. She didn't know whether to be terrified or relieved by the feeling. It meant that Skye still wore hers and that they were still linked, but it also meant Skye had been hurt.
Ward. Ward had done something, Jemma just knew it. She couldn't stand the thought of that bastard attacking Skye like he had so many times before, and to Jemma as well. A newfound flame lit up in her spirit again and she shot off, perfectly prepared to travel the 200 mile distance back to Skye. Bobbi was a faster swimmer, though, and she caught up in no time, grabbing Jemma and firmly pulling her back, not letting her go. Skye was fine, Bobbi argued. It had just been a blip, she would have known if Skye was in true danger or was mortally wounded.
It took another two days after that for Jemma to finally give up. They weren't going back, that much was clear. Jemma skulked and cried her way through the next week of migration, and even though all of her pod members tried to help, she only found herself getting frustrated with them.
Eventually, they found a new place. A series of islands, only some inhabited by humans, but those they simply avoided. They shared the rocks with strange new creatures, creatures Jemma had explained were lizards. She'd seen some with Skye, but these were much bigger and they swam. The mermaids often began basking with them on the black rocks, and they slept there since there were no caves. It was safe and blissful. It would have been a paradise, if only Skye had been able to come.
Jemma threw herself into mapmaking with Bobbi, carving the new area into the rocks. This kept her busy for several weeks, but she quickly grew bored once they'd covered most of it. Jemma wanted to explore something else, and after getting explicit permission from May, Jemma created a new class of job for herself.
Coulson provided her with the potion that granted her legs and kept a more healthy supply of them on hand. Jemma took one almost every day, and she wandered onto the islands they lived on. With the same burlap material as her bra that the pod usually had on hand, Jemma fashioned herself a pair of shorts like the ones Skye had her wear. It wasn't necessary, since no one but the animals were on land, but it made her feel more comfortable, and she'd never admit it, but more human.
No mermaid or merman knew more than Jemma did about the land and the creatures on it, so she quickly became their expert. With her legs, Jemma climbed up the rocks and passed the lizards every day, venturing further and further onto the island and observing everything she saw. Eventually, she figured out how to make fire based off of the limited knowledge of it Skye had once provided her with. She used bark and charcoal and began sketching. They were nowhere near as good as Skye's drawings had been, they were only basic shapes, but Jemma liked finding a new animal or plant to draw. The activity made her feel like she was still with Skye.
Jemma often brought her drawings back to the pod, showing anyone who was interested, but especially the children. She was like a land expert now, and it amazed the little ones how much she knew, even though Jemma knew she knew so little.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Jemma practically spent all her time on land, and she knew the entire surface of most of the uninhabited islands as well as she knew the sea surrounding them. Jemma brought back new plants, and the shaman was able to create several new potions, including an advanced version of her two-legged potion. It granted her the limbs until she came into contact with salt water again. She discovered many edibles, and suddenly, food wasn't an issue for them, and they had a wider variety of things to eat.
Jemma was busy, and it made her dull. It was better than being sad. She often felt deep sorrow that wasn't her own, and Jemma wondered if it was Skye. She thought about her often, every day, and she had the laminated picture of her left under some sea glass near a tree at her favorite place to relax, in a small group of short, stubby trees where many large, shelled animals lived. It was almost like being on land made Jemma feel more connected to her. Some days she swore she could almost hear Skye's thoughts, even though she was so far away. They were foggy and impossible to read, but they were there.
She wondered how Skye was doing. Clearly Jemma had been wrong in her presumption before, Skye obviously still wore her necklace and they were still partners. Jemma only hoped Skye had managed to find some peace of mind like she had, something to keep her busy. She had her art, and Jemma hoped that would be enough for her.
Three days turned into three weeks, and three weeks turned into three months and Skye was the same, except less everything that made her Skye. The first week she had thought was tough…and then the two weeks following had been equally as awful if not more so. By the time a month had gone by, Skye was still visiting the beach for a few minutes out of her day in-between her classes and the now double shifts at the diner.
Fall semester went by and she had almost failed, barely scraping by with two D's, a C, and two B's which her mother scolded her for and almost sent her to therapy. She had been off for a while, and Skye knew it, but whatever it was, she just couldn't get back into the groove of normal life…no, not normal, her life before Jemma. Jemma was her normal. Skye had picked herself up just enough now that her mother left her alone…mostly. She was holding a good solid AB ratio so far. This was her second to last year, and even though she was in such a depression, she knew she had to at least keep herself afloat so she could still graduate on time.
Skye still didn't pay attention in class though. She thought about Jemma a lot, about 80% of the time actually. She thought how Jemma must hate her for making her leave. She would probably hate her even more if she knew Skye had made her leave, and then three days later Ward and Garrett and half of his knockoff sea world team had gone to prison off island. Skye felt bitter about that the most. If she had somehow waited…if she could have just kept Jemma away for three or four days, the pod would have been safe and she would be here now. Skye also wondered if Jemma could feel the deep, penetrating loathing she had for herself thanks to this fact. She had rushed them off in so much of a hurry without hardly a decent goodbye and now she was probably never going to see her again when it didn't have to be that way at all.
She thought how Jemma must think she had somehow cheated her way out of forever…like Skye didn't care enough when things got hard that she just pawned Jemma off to someone else…she practically had, but it hadn't been for that reason. All she had wanted to do was keep Jemma safe…and she wondered if the mermaid knew that. She hoped and prayed Jemma knew she wasn't being selfish. She loved Jemma and Skye knew she didn't want anyone else, but humans didn't exactly have a good track record. Skye knew her species was faulty and full of unkept promises, but Skye didn't want to be like that.
At night, if she didn't cry herself to sleep holding her necklace, she would wake up crying to nightmares. On the off chance she did get some sleep, it was only ever because she had forced herself to stay up for so many hours that her body didn't have any choice but to shut down completely…and that happened more often than was probably healthy. All she had, if she really had anything, was her art…and she hadn't been able to do even that.
All of her sketches were of Jemma, and they were all wrong. Wrong everywhere. Not just in the scales, but wrong everywhere. The scales were wrong, her face was wrong, her hair was wrong, her fins were wrong, her eyes were wrong, everything was wrong. Even when she tried to draw something other than Jemma she just couldn't. She failed every single time and one night she had been so infuriated that she ripped every page out of her sketch book, crumbled it up, and threw it at the opposite wall, followed by turning her desk and art supplies over and ripping off the pictures until by the time she fell on her bed, exhausted, her room was a wreck and not a single piece of artwork remained anywhere that wasn't in some fashion destroyed beyond repair. There was only one…only one she hadn't dared lay a finger on. Her first sketch of Jemma. The first one she had ever drawn. The first time she had ever put Jemma to paper. She dared not lay a finger on it.
It was the sole survivor of a massacre and still hung on the opposite wall of Skye's bed, dead center, where she could see it every night. Jemma and herself at the fair was her phone background. It was her only real picture and she fell asleep staring it more times than she could count. She was throwing herself into work at the diner and all of her spring semester classes that weren't art. At least, that was a month into her spring classes when her Advanced Art III teacher passed out fliers for a contest. The winner was to be chosen at the end of term and art piece revealed at the Island Faire, to be displayed at the place of choice by the creator. Winner was to receive a scholarship to apply to their next year of school.
It wasn't the art that got her attention nor the contest really…but she was running low on funds and even picking up as many shifts at the diner as she now had wasn't going to get her through her senior year. She had enough loans as it was and she knew her mother wouldn't be able to keep helping fund her like she was. The flyer said all mediums were welcome. Sketches, paintings, sculptures, and anything in-between. Skye didn't know what she would do. Nothing she had done these last few months could even win against kindergartners' art.
Skye knew, at the rate she was going, there wouldn't be any way she could win, even if she had wished it for the briefest of moments. She felt hope sometimes, faint, but powerful, but it would fade just as fast as it had come and her inspiration would leave her…for whatever she had been doing. Fleeting as it was, one of these moments struck her suddenly on her way home the next day when she visited the beach.
There was no tower. She didn't expect one anymore…but a rusty bent pipe, probably from a ship, had washed up on shore with a cluster of seaweed. She had never seen trash wash up on shore in her and Jemma's old place before. At one time, before the mermaid had come into her life, she would have wandered around, searching for it and picking it up and taking the lot home, fixing it up to create art with it. Her mother still had the small windmill she designed with some sheet metal that had washed up.
It came to her, like a quiet whisper, before it was gone. Skye took the pipe home and cleaned it off. It was a dank brown sort of color and she thought it was ugly...just like everything she had tried to do in the past few months. Ugly like her art. She felt a gentle encouragement from somewhere, and she found her hand had subconsciously wandered to the scale on her necklace. The more often she touched it, the more she missed Jemma and the more she wished she could just kiss her and touch her scales and make her smile again. Maybe Jemma was thinking about her too…and maybe, for some reason Skye couldn't comprehend…she wasn't angry with her for sending her away. It saddened her to think she would never get another chance to get her scales right…she had tried so hard.
When she looked down at the pipe again she nearly dropped it after a soft gasp escaped her lips. She had been sanding it lightly with sandpaper to clean it off and the shimmering orange color it revealed caught her artistic interest immediately. Copper! She was so excited she shot up from her chair, which knocked it back and hit her dresser, shaking the lamp there hard enough to make it fall over, which sent a pile of sea glass that Jemma had brought her crashing to the floor. The noise scared her and she turned around to look in the floor, and this time she did drop the pipe. It rolled slowly, steadily, next to the sea glass and Skye just stared at it in bewilderment.
She had never noticed before, but most of the colors of glass Jemma had brought her matched the colors in her tail. It made Skye miss her deeply and she suddenly realized…she didn't have any pictures of Jemma's tail. She hadn't painted the colors of Jemma's tail and even as she looked at the glass and thought of it now, the colors had faded and could even be in all the wrong order. She had been so caught up in not having her, that she had let herself not have her at all. She was sacrificing the memory of Jemma to go about her normal day and just try to survive. It hurt too much. She was being selfish. She wouldn't forget. She couldn't. She refused.
Three more months, five hundred and twenty seven hours, forty-three minutes and eighteen seconds of shop time, two weeks of working with a brace and bandage on one hand, and several pounds of copper, sea glass, and steel later…her masterpiece stood before her on the edge of the pier, facing out to the ocean.
"It's really beautiful, honey. You did such a good job," Her mother hugged around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. A bright blue ribbon was stuck to the plaque in front of the statue. Her literal blood, sweat, and tears were in this work and it was utterly and without a doubt perfect.
"Thanks mom…"
"How's your hand? Better?"
"Almost…the doctor said I could hold a welder fine but drawing fine lines might take some time…I won't be sketching for a while…it was worth it though." Skye sighed, angling her head back to admire the eight foot tall sculpture she had done both for her final project and for the contest. Her project had been to tell a story…and looking at it now, Skye thought she told a damn good one.
"Did you say you forgot to put that mixture you made on it, dear? Won't it rust?"
"I left it off on purpose…I want it to rust…"
"But won't the rust ruin it? Turn it all green…it would be a shame to lose its color?"
"Yeah, the salt in the air will turn it green…but it will look better that way over time I think. Battling the elements will be good for it. I'm supposed to be telling a story after all…"
"And this here," Her mother pointed to a small sliver of copper still showing where everything else was surrounded by thin, smooth cuts of sea glass, "I think a piece already fell off, honey, it's missing."
"That is also on purpose," Skye smiled to herself and rubbed the scale on her necklace between the thumb and pointer finger of her now good hand. She had been having to use her left for everything recently since she accidently had fucked up with a welding torch with her other hand. That would teach her to daydream less and pay more attention to the real world. She wasn't in a fairy tale anymore.
"Well…I still think it is stunning. Your best work yet, Daisy."
"Thanks mom."
"What is that she is holding?"
"It's a starfish…"