Hey all! Sorry for the long wait between the first chapter and this one! I got me a new job and was busy getting used to the schedule and everything. It's been pretty chill compared to my old one, so I had the energy to write this!
I hope you enjoy! It's quite a bit longer than anticipated, but I guess that's what happens in storywriting. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. None whatsoever!
Gratitude
When morning came, Phineas went back to watching over the sleeping merman with Perry. Though he did tell Mom that he wanted to see the merman wake up, Phineas did kinda hope that he woke up already. Because it meant he was okay.
Phineas frowned at the big bandages Mom had to cover the merman with, and even at the towel around his tail. They must hurt a lot, because he remembered how the merman cried. He sounded so sad and scared and then he went to sleep. It's not good to fall asleep like that. What if he had nightmares? So Phineas wished the merman would wake up soon so he could help him feel better.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. When Phineas climbed up on a stool to check the water, he heard the merman groan. It sounded funny because his head was underwater, but it wasn't very funny because he sounded like he still hurt a lot.
Still Phineas was excited. "Perry, he's wakin' up!"
"Ngkrkrkr." Perry moved closer to him, and Phineas got down and picked him up so he could see, too.
Groggy black eyes opened and stared at them.
Phineas waved as best as he could while holding Perry. "Hi, I'm Phineas and this is Perry. What's your name?" he greeted softly, because he knew he couldn't be too loud to a sleepy man.
The merman just closed his eyes again and moved one of his hands. He touched his shoulder and frowned.
Next thing Phineas knew, a lot of water splashed over him and Perry like a wave. "Whoa!" he yelped at the same time the merman yelled in pain. Phineas worried. "Oh no! Are you okay?"
He heard Mom's footsteps before anything else. "Phineas!" She scooped him up in her arms, wrapped a towel around him, and cradled him. "What happened? You're soaking wet!"
"I'm fine, Mom. I just got splashed." Since he was holding Perry, he could only rub his face on her shoulder. "The merman's still hurt, though." Phineas looked back at the tub and saw the merman sitting up now, trying to get out.
Mom put Phineas and Perry back on the stool and started pushing the merman back. Not too hard, though. Just enough that he had to lay back down. "Oh no, mister. You're in no condition to move! You need to rest your… everything! You really took a beating from that storm." She checked the bandages, which were more red and brown than white. "Take it easy now. I'll change these for you. Just need to find the bandages."
But the merman did not calm down. As soon as Mom walked away, he tried to get up again. Slower now, but he still tried. He looked really scared and worried. Was he homesick?
Putting Perry down, Phineas patted one of the wrapped hands. "It's okay. You can go home when you're all better," he said and the merman looked at him. "You were bleedin' a lot last night. The ocean's all salty, so it'll hurt a lot if you go back now."
The merman didn't say anything, hasn't said anything since he woke up. The only sounds he ever made were yells and clicks like dolphins did. Maybe he didn't understand.
While Phineas tried to think of things he could say without words, he heard small splashes. The merman had one hand covering his eyes, but Phineas could still see a few pearls dropping into the water. Little white, black, and purple jewels that were very pretty; but he didn't like that the merman had to cry to make them.
"Nooo." Phineas got a towel to wipe the tears. "Don't cry. I promise you'll go home." It didn't do very much. He looked into the tub and saw how small and boring it was. Nothing like the ocean. "What if I got you somethin' from the sea? Would that help?" He got no answer, but he wanted to try anyway.
Mom came back with a first aid kit. "Found them! You won't believe where they were hiding."
Phineas tugged on her shirt. "Mom, can we go back to the beach? I think we can get something from there to cheer up the merman. He's real homesick."
She looked worried. "I don't know. I can't leave either of you alone."
Suddenly, he heard the door downstairs open. "I'm home!" It was Candace. "Mom, can I go to the beach with Stacy?"
"Funny you should ask," Mom said. "Phineas just asked to go. Can you take him with you, sweetie?"
"What?" Candace whined. Footsteps at the stairs meant she was coming up. "I'm supposed to go to have fun, not babysit my little brother! Can't you do it, Mom? It's your day off."
"I would, but I can't exactly leave the house right now," Mom told her. "What if I put you in charge?"
"Grr… fine! You hear that, Phineas? Mom put me in—AAAAAHHHH! WHAT IS THAT?!"
"Ssh! Candace, you're too loud," Mom scolded.
Candace, shaking at the door, pointed at the merman. "I'm too loud?! There's a man in the tub! And is that a FISH TAIL?!"
Phineas was the only one who saw how the merman sank into the tub, covering his white fin-shaped ears. The boy turned around to yell: "STOP IT! You're scaring him!" He calmed down when everyone was quiet. "He's hurt and he misses home. I don't think he knows we're trying to help him."
"Didn't you tell him? Why not send him to a hospital? We can't take care of a mermaid… man… merman?"
"I don't think he understands us, and the hospital's way scarier than our house." Phineas put his hands together. "Can you help, Candace? Please?"
Candace looked at the sad merman, and then at Phineas, and then back. She did this a few times before she groaned and made an annoyed face, but it wasn't like her normal ones. It was the understanding kind. "Fine, what do you want to get? A seashell?"
"I dunno, but I know it's gotta be perfect." Phineas jumped from the stool and ran to hug her. "Thanks, Sis. You're the best."
"Yeah, okay, I know." She gave him a small pat. "C'mon, let's get ready. Don't wanna keep Stace waiting."
"Let me pack you lunch before you go." Mom put the first aid kid down for a bit. "You kids want sandwiches?"
"Grilled cheese," said Candace.
"I want a sub!" Phineas chirped. "'Cause we're going to the beach! Submarine!"
Mom laughed. "Yes, yes, I know. I'll get started right after I change the water."
Not wanting to leave the merman looking sad, Phineas ran back to the tub and climbed up the stool. He patted the man's arm until he looked him in the eyes. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you the best souvenir ever!"
The merman probably didn't understand, but he did give Phineas a sad smile and ruffle his hair.
Father was still gone when morning came. It hurt the merfry more than anything he'd ever woken up to.
He wanted to go find Father, but the ocean was so much bigger than the cave. All around he saw empty blue water and white sand. He didn't know where to go, where to start.
Luckily a pod of dolphins had passed by and seen him. They were friendly and kind, and loved to talk. Some told him they had seen a merman who had a black tail topped with a large white stripe lying on a beach close by. They also said that a human lady with orange hair took him away last night.
Though they warned him not to go near the humans and even offered to take care of the merfry, he thanked them and swam to the beach.
Father told him about humans before. They looked a lot like merfolk, only they had legs instead of tails and fins and couldn't breathe underwater. They were also very smart, making whatever they needed to do what they can't by themselves. Every drowned ship he and Father explored and slept in and everything in those ships were made by humans. Father liked humans and loved to collect their drowned things, even though none of them worked very well underwater. He had a large collection back when they lived with Grandfather and Grandmother's pod back home.
He also said to be careful of humans. No one knew why, but humans liked merfolk tears and scales. Humans used to catch merfolk and hurt them to get what they wanted. The merfry hoped that the human who took Father didn't hurt him. Maybe she'll give Father back if he asked. There had to be good and nice humans too, right? First he needed to find her.
He stayed in the shadows under a pier and hid in some floating kelp that wrapped around one of the poles. It was the perfect spot for human watching, because it was close enough to see them and far enough away that they couldn't see him in his hiding space. From there he began his search.
It was a lucky thing that there weren't many orange-haired humans. Only one of them was a lady too, though she looked more like a girl than a lady. Still she had the most orange hair he'd seen, so kept an eye on her.
She wasn't alone, though. She was with a girl as tall as she was and with black hair, and following them was a baby human with red hair and a fish-shaped head. Behind him followed a green bird thing with no wings and with a flat orange tail. How odd.
The merfry watched them walk by the water. The baby human sometimes stopped to dig in the sand, and sometimes he picked up shells to put in a red bowl thing he had with him. He wandered closer and closer to the sea in his search for more things to collect, not caring about the waves hitting him. Perhaps he liked sea things as much as Father liked human things.
A scent suddenly hit the merfry, one he would know anywhere. The smell of rust, tea leaves, and… blood. Father! Excited and scared, the merfry followed the trail, but he did not go very far. He did not need to.
It led right to the human boy.
The merfry looked all around the beach. There were too many grown-up humans, so he couldn't get close. Still he felt lucky that he found a clue so quickly. Now all he needed was the chance to talk to the human boy and see if he knew what happened to Father, maybe even help get Father back. For now, the merfry could only follow the human.
Again he got lucky. The orange-haired girl stopped and looked somewhere, the other one doing the same. They didn't see the baby human and his green bird thing start walking away, towards a place where there weren't as many grown-ups. The merfry waited to see if anyone would come for the little one, but no one did. Baby humans must grow faster than merfries.
As he swam to keep up with the boy, the merfry noticed Father's scent and blood smell getting stronger. Now he swam ahead, knowing exactly where he wanted to go. He was stuck between a smile and a cry because he might finally see Father soon.
But where the trail stopped he only saw a red splotch in the sand, a bunch of net, and shining tears. There were more purple and black pearls than white ones too, which meant Father had been very sad. Sad and all alone, and now he was gone. Just like last night, the merfry's eyes quivered with his own tears.
"Whoa." The sound startled him. When he looked, he saw the human boy standing not far away. The baby human waved. "Hi!"
Father would be so upset. The merfry had been so sad he forgot to hide in the water, but at least it was the small one who found him. The small one who smelled like Father and was the only one who could help him.
The human—and his bird thing—started getting closer. Slowly, and he made soft noises when he did. Noises that the merfry did not understand. Still he could see that the human boy did not want to scare him.
He tried to ask about Father, but the human made a confused sound. He didn't understand either.
What now? The merfry tried to think of a way to talk to him, except he could only think about how hungry he was. His tummy growled and he almost growled with it. He wanted breakfast, but he didn't want to go yet. What if the human boy left while he was gone?
"Oh!" The human unwrapped something in his hands.
After the crackling rustling sound came the strangest and most delicious smell that ever drifted to the merfry's nose. It came from an equally strange and now delicious-looking and colorful human food. It looked like a sea cucumber cut in half and its insides were stuffed with some brown, green, red, and yellow things. He soon found it was softer and less slimy than a sea cucumber when the human put the food in his hands. When he took a bite, he decided that human food was amazing. Soft and crunchy at the same time, only dry on the outside, mostly salty with a little sweet. The sea didn't have anything like it. He still loved clams, but this not-cucumber had to be the best thing he ever tasted.
It was almost sad when he finished it. Still he no longer felt hungry, so he could start thinking about how to talk to the human boy. First would be to thank him with a gift. Gifts didn't need sounds, only sight and touch. And he just so happened to have the perfect one on him.
Back home with Grandfather and Grandmother, everyone marveled at his tail: green as fresh kelp with little purple stripes, ending with a yellow and purple-edged fin like a flower. They called it 'prized,' which must mean something special, because they told him not many merfolk had such bright colors. One of his scales must be even more prized and special to a human.
Carefully, he checked his tail for some. He picked at the bigger scales at his middle-side for their bigger purple edges and for how much they shined in the sun. He pulled out one almost as big as his hand. It stung a little bit and he did bleed, but it would heal. He offered up the scale and expected excitement.
Except the human looked sad and made worried noises as he pointed at the itching spot. His bird thing, which had been staring the whole time, even went up to press against it.
The merfry responded by laying the scale on top of the boy's hand and patting it. Then he pet the bird thing that chattered and purred next to him.
Not so worried now, the human boy turned the scale in his hands and smiled. He nodded and said something in his language that sounded like thanks. Then he pointed to himself and made another noise. "Phineas."
Humans and merfolk shared some gestures, the merfry realized. The human was trying to introduce himself. So the fry did likewise and clicked his name.
His new friend—as he was now comfortable to call him—tilted his head. "Ferb?"
Is that what his name sounded like in that language? "Hhrrb…?" he tried to repeat. He didn't know how to say it, but he liked it anyway. It was much easier to think, too. "Hrrb." Yes, he'll think himself Ferb from now on. Ferb pointed to his friend. "Hinyes?"
The boy giggled. "Phineas," he said more slowly. He showed his teeth. "Ffff."
"Hhhhfff..." Oh, that's how he did it. The teeth had to touch the lip. "Phineas?" Ferb smiled when his friend clapped.
Phineas pointed at the bird thing. "Perry."
The green bird thing looked up and chattered.
"Ferry?" Ferb tried.
"Perry."
"Berry?"
"Perry."
"Perry."
Perry chattered.
Now Ferb felt quite pleased with himself. If the human language was as easy as learning names, he might be able to find Father soon! But how soon? It had only been a night since he saw him and he already missed him terribly.
Phineas frowned and grabbed a stick. He used it to make lines in the sand. Drawing. Not just any drawing either. Ferb watched as Phineas drew a simple picture of a merman, even using the pearls laying in the sand to put colors in the tail: black with a large white stripe on top.
Father. He drew Father. Even if it was just a picture, seeing any image of Father made Ferb miss him even more.
A sudden loud screech startled him before he could get very sad. Ferb sank into the water and swam a little bit away from shore, calling for Phineas and Perry to run to him so they could all escape together. When they didn't move he almost went back to grab them, but he froze when he saw the girls from earlier stopping next to them.
The orange-haired one yelled at Phineas, who didn't look scared at all. He tried to talk to her instead; she didn't seem to listen. All she did was grab his hand and lead him away so quickly he almost couldn't grab his red bowl thing that held the empty shells. He didn't look like he was struggling, and he even waved towards Ferb as they all left.
Ferb felt a little closer to Father now, but he was still left alone.
By many accounts the merman should consider himself very lucky. Though found by humans, he'd been taken in by kind ones. The woman in particular had been tending to him tirelessly, and by now had taught him how to communicate when he was hungry or cold or in more pain than was bearable. His tears and pearls seemed to be the last things on her mind. Plus she had quite the lovely singing voice. It was more than he could hope for while stranded away from home.
But he could not bring himself to relax. How could he when he, a grown merman, lived in relative luxury while his far too young child was lost? Or worse? It was every proper parent's worst fear to lose their child. In the long hours since he'd awoken, the uncertainty and his helplessness ate away at his mind and heart.
He'd tried quite a few times to escape. He had every intention of crawling back to the ocean if he had to in order to search for his son. A couple of attempts saw him making it to the ground outside the vessel that held him, but his blasted tail always ruined things. That sharp, intense, burning pain never ceased to force loud cries from him that alerted his caretaker into putting him back. She would scold him every time too, and leave him feeling guilty for testing her hospitality.
He sighed and reclined in the vessel while his caretaker tended to his wounds, oblivious to the anxiety within him. Not that he could blame her. For all that he learned to convey, he didn't have the means to tell her about his son. Of course, it didn't do much to lessen the frustration.
A bit of white fluttered in his vision at the same time he heard a sound below. Soon after came the familiar call of the Little Angelfish (as he'd taken to calling the boy), quickly followed by thumps and finally by the appearance of the little one himself. He had a small red vessel in his hands that smelled strongly of home. The child wasted no time practically flying to the merman's resting place to present the red thing to him.
Empty shells, colorful smooth rocks, and even the occasional piece of coral filled the red vessel. The merman gratefully accepted the gifts that did ease his longing for home. Instinct compelled him to ruffle the child's hair, the action itself helping to ease his longing for his own son.
Then the Little Angelfish produced an iridescent green scale.
The father felt his heart aching when he laid his eyes on it. How it hurt to see it without its owner attached. He took it with the haste of a starving man yet with the gentleness he reserved for his child. His anxiety began melting away as he took in every detail of the precious item in his hands. The scale was fully intact and not at all brittle, its green and purple coloring gleaming in near-perfect health. These traits only came in freely-given scales. Not only was his child alive, but he also seemed well.
It was the most wonderful news, so much more than he could ever hope for.
The Little Angelfish's distressed cries alerted him that he must be getting emotional again. So the merman plucked a scale of his own, one from a purple line separating the black and white portions of his tail, and pressed it into the boy's hand. He settled down immediately and grinned, perhaps because he understood it as an act of gratitude. His son must have taught him that. Hopefully this little one could act as the bridge between the two while they were apart.