Author's Note: All right. This IS an A/U fic. "Alternate Universe", for those new to the acronym. With that said, this is why the fish are human. It's an alternate universe. Pretty much the same story, only with people. And as for the comment about smoking in a loony bin… well… that'll be explained in due time.
All who reviewed have my deepest thanks.
He came to, lying on his back on the pavement, stars dancing to and fro before his eyes. Someone bent over him, waving a hand in his face, dimly asking him to count the fingers held before him. It took him a minute to register, and yet another minute to sit up. The someone sat on the ground next to him.
"You okay?" It was a woman.
"I think so…" he muttered, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "What.. happened..?"
"You fell down," she replied. "At least.. I think you fell down… I don't really remember." She gave a nervous laugh. "You were running fast! And.. then it all goes poof."
He stared at her, stopped, and then resumed staring again. Her hair was blue. Bright blue. The sort of blue that could only come from a box, yet it had all the aspects—highlights, dark places—of natural color. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. Her purple eyes were large in her face, giving her a constantly innocent expression. Freckles dotted across her cheeks, pale in contrast to the dark color of her eyebrows and lashes. She reached out to him with a hand colored in bright yellow nail polish, and clad in a black T-shirt. "Let me help you up!"
Without waiting for him to respond, the woman gave a hard tug on his arms, wrenching him into a standing position. He almost fell back to his knees. She steadied him, a smile spreading across her face. She was impossibly thin, but towered above him.
"Who are you?"
Another smile, just as big, just as happy. "I'm Dory! Y'know, like a boat!" The latter was added with a slight giggle.
"Nice to meet you," he answered, dazed. "How… how'd I end up on the ground?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. You were running, you tell me."
He leaned back against a tree, still rubbing his head as things gradually came back to him. Nemo. The vans. The teachers holding him back. His frantic dash after the trucks… this park. Hitting the woman—
"Sorry," he muttered, staring at his shoes. They were horribly scuffed from the chase and collision. Not to mention there was a new hole in his slacks. If he ever was able to get home again… he pushed the thought away. "I didn't mean to run into you."
"Run into me? What are you talking about?"
Again, he found himself staring at her. A look of confusion was plastered across her face. However, though, he figured she'd hit her head as hard as he had in their little collision. Another realization moved to take the place of this one, one that brightened his mood somewhat. "Excuse me, but.. did you see a van go by here? White, big yellow license plates? Sort of scary…?"
Dory brightened instantly. "Yeah! Two of them! Big, BIG ones!" She gestured southerly. "That way! We'll get a cab!"
Hope leapt, blossoming red in his heart. She took his hand, pulling him towards the other end of the park, releasing her grip on him almost instantly as she broke into a breakneck run. He did his best to follow her as she wove between trees, hurdled over bushes, and tiptoed through flocks of pigeons. Eventually, she slowed her frantic pace, giving him the precious time needed to catch his breath. This must have alerted her to his failing stamina, for she started to glance around, as if something was after her. The instant her purple eyes locked on him however, she began running again, taking a look over her shoulder at him every so often.
Puzzled, he darted after her again, regretting his lack of gym card more than ever. He'd just never had the time to go to a place like that. But, had he thought that one day, he'd be running through the park, chasing after some blue-haired woman, he'd have grabbed the first person in bike shorts he came across and… well… he didn't know. Maybe steal theirs, had they actually had one on them… He shook his head and reserved his energy for catching up to her.
She stopped, finally, beaten by the sudden lack of grass and the onset of twilight. Panting, he drew to a halt behind her, doubling over with the effort of forcing precious air into heaving lungs.
"What're you, some kind of stalker!?"
Stunned, he looked up. The woman's purple eyes were hard, angry. Yet a hint of confusion lingered beneath the veneer of anger.
"I don't.."
"Stop following me!" she snapped. "Geez! You think you'd take a hint by the time we hit the dumpsters, but NOOOO! Go home!" She folded her arms, daring him to answer her. Wind ruffled blue hair.
"What..?" His own confusion was quickly replaced with indignation. "Look! YOU'RE the one who TOLD me to follow you!" he said, fast losing his temper. "What is WRONG with you!?" Half expecting her to be hurt by his statement, he pushed his glasses back up on his nose in order to see her better, in case he need apologize.
Confusion cleared from her face. "Ohhh…" she mumbled, leaning against a newspaper dispenser. "Ohhh… I see…" A yellow nail nervously picked at her lower lip. "I'm sorry…"
"You're sorry?"
"Uh-huh…" she reverted her gaze to the ground. Her feet were bare, scuffed from their run. A few scrapes oozed slightly onto the ground. "It's my fault." She looked at him now. "I have… oh, how to put this…? Memory issues." Now she gave him a nervous smile, blush tingeing her cheeks.
He stared.
"Parents used to say I had the memory of a goldfish!" The smile faded. "Erm… least… I THINK they did…" She looked around wildly, her eyes widening. "Where… are they?"
"This isn't happening," he moaned, sinking down onto the curb. "What was I thinking in the first place…? Asking strange, blue-haired women for help…" He turned, glaring at her. "I bet you never even SAW a van, did you?"
Snapping back from watching something across the road, she put a yellow-finger nailed hand forward. "I'm Dory," she said, another wide smile on her face.
"…Something's wrong with you. Really, really wrong."
She only stared at him.
With a wordless noise of frustration, he put his head in his hands. "This is NOT happening, this is NOT happening…" He was getting a migraine. Hadn't he taken the medication this morning? Had he locked the house? Left the iron on? Remembered to take his spare keys?
Did it matter…?
"What's not happening?"
This time, he didn't even look up. "My son… I went to… pick him up from school… and they were taking him away… I don't know why, or anything. They were just… dragging him off to the vans." Tears were forming in his eyes. "I was so careful. They COULDN'T be social workers…? Unless there's a new law against not having two parents. I just… I have to find him."
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he met sympathetic purple eyes. That was different, but not surprising to him. Dory patted his shoulder once more before her concentration was pulled elsewhere. His attention soon followed.
Night had fallen while he'd been babbling, shrouding the city in a cool blanket. Lights flickered in the looming buildings beyond the park. Trees and small shrubs rustled in the light breeze that kicked up from the river beyond where boats could be seen moving sluggishly back to their moorings. The streetlamps came on, buzzing. This area was vacant by now, the hot dog vendors and magazine clerks having gone home, or off to take a break. None of this attracted his attention as much as a dull roar emanating from down the road. He stood, instinctually moving in front of Dory, despite her stature. The woman stood, peering curiously over him to see what it was exactly that he was hiding.
Streetlamps gleaming off bright chrome, a motorcycle cruised around the corner, black-clad rider eyeing them. It whipped past them once, then doubled back and glided to a stop a few feet away from the two. The man riding it flipped black sunglasses up, sizing them up.
"Hello," he said casually. A grin similar to the one usually plastered to Dory's face appeared on his lips.
"Hi!" the aforementioned woman answered. She leaned around her supposed protector, waving gaily to the man on the motorcycle. "How're you—hey!" The exclamation was dragged from her as her arm was grabbed by the man trying to keep her from harm. "Let go!"
He didn't. "We… really need to be going…"
"Aw, stay a while!" The biker's grin had become a leer. "Who might you two be?"
She had wrenched her arm free, displaying it to the biker. "I'm Dory! And this… um. This is…" She stopped, horribly confused.
That was right. He never told her his name. He'd been so busy trying to sort out what had happened, where he was going… everything. In all this, he'd never mentioned to her his name. Not even thinking, he held out his hand to the biker. "M… I'm… Marlin," he mumbled, somewhat dazed.
"Name's Bruce," replied the biker, shaking his hand warmly. "You lost?"
He managed to shake his head. "We… we were looking… for a van."
Now puzzlement crossed the bandana crowned visage. "A white van?" he asked. "Big yellow license plates?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Is it your van?"
His enthusiasm faded. "Well… er… no. But I… you see… They—the people who drove it… they took my son…"
"Took your kid?"
"I went to pick him up from school and they were hauling him away…" It was funny, the more he said it, the easier it was to believe. "I thought maybe they were social workers.. but… Now I just don't know…" He shoved his hands roughly into his pockets, fingering the loose change inside.
A hand with yellow nails on his shoulder again. "You poor thing…" Dory's mystified voice was strangely comforting; albeit she'd already heard the same thing just a moment ago. "It'll be okay."
Almost instantly after he'd finished, he was being hoisted onto the back of the motorcycle. He let out a strangled sound, watching the ground fall away, taking his glasses with it. The whole world snapped out of focus. He felt himself being placed behind a broad back clad in leather. Another noise escaped him, this one far more frightened than the last. This was NOT happening… One minute he was on his way to Nemo's school with a promise to change, the next he was being accosted by blue-haired women and bizarre bikers with pink bandanas. He needed milk. His ulcer would be flaring up after this for sure.
"Don't worry, chum. Bruce'll get you there before that van leaves off! Hop on Dory, hon."
"Whee!" He felt her slide on behind him, wrapping her bony arms around his waist. "Oh, oh wait, these're yours. I think." She slid his glasses carefully on his nose, her tongue poked out in concentration. This accomplished, she sat back, once again encircling him in her grasp. Her touch put him on edge.
"Everyone settled in? Good!" The bike took off, giving Marlin just enough time to read the back of the biker's jacket before his head was snapped backwards into Dory's chest.
It said, quite simply, "Land Shark."
All who reviewed have my deepest thanks.
He came to, lying on his back on the pavement, stars dancing to and fro before his eyes. Someone bent over him, waving a hand in his face, dimly asking him to count the fingers held before him. It took him a minute to register, and yet another minute to sit up. The someone sat on the ground next to him.
"You okay?" It was a woman.
"I think so…" he muttered, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "What.. happened..?"
"You fell down," she replied. "At least.. I think you fell down… I don't really remember." She gave a nervous laugh. "You were running fast! And.. then it all goes poof."
He stared at her, stopped, and then resumed staring again. Her hair was blue. Bright blue. The sort of blue that could only come from a box, yet it had all the aspects—highlights, dark places—of natural color. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. Her purple eyes were large in her face, giving her a constantly innocent expression. Freckles dotted across her cheeks, pale in contrast to the dark color of her eyebrows and lashes. She reached out to him with a hand colored in bright yellow nail polish, and clad in a black T-shirt. "Let me help you up!"
Without waiting for him to respond, the woman gave a hard tug on his arms, wrenching him into a standing position. He almost fell back to his knees. She steadied him, a smile spreading across her face. She was impossibly thin, but towered above him.
"Who are you?"
Another smile, just as big, just as happy. "I'm Dory! Y'know, like a boat!" The latter was added with a slight giggle.
"Nice to meet you," he answered, dazed. "How… how'd I end up on the ground?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. You were running, you tell me."
He leaned back against a tree, still rubbing his head as things gradually came back to him. Nemo. The vans. The teachers holding him back. His frantic dash after the trucks… this park. Hitting the woman—
"Sorry," he muttered, staring at his shoes. They were horribly scuffed from the chase and collision. Not to mention there was a new hole in his slacks. If he ever was able to get home again… he pushed the thought away. "I didn't mean to run into you."
"Run into me? What are you talking about?"
Again, he found himself staring at her. A look of confusion was plastered across her face. However, though, he figured she'd hit her head as hard as he had in their little collision. Another realization moved to take the place of this one, one that brightened his mood somewhat. "Excuse me, but.. did you see a van go by here? White, big yellow license plates? Sort of scary…?"
Dory brightened instantly. "Yeah! Two of them! Big, BIG ones!" She gestured southerly. "That way! We'll get a cab!"
Hope leapt, blossoming red in his heart. She took his hand, pulling him towards the other end of the park, releasing her grip on him almost instantly as she broke into a breakneck run. He did his best to follow her as she wove between trees, hurdled over bushes, and tiptoed through flocks of pigeons. Eventually, she slowed her frantic pace, giving him the precious time needed to catch his breath. This must have alerted her to his failing stamina, for she started to glance around, as if something was after her. The instant her purple eyes locked on him however, she began running again, taking a look over her shoulder at him every so often.
Puzzled, he darted after her again, regretting his lack of gym card more than ever. He'd just never had the time to go to a place like that. But, had he thought that one day, he'd be running through the park, chasing after some blue-haired woman, he'd have grabbed the first person in bike shorts he came across and… well… he didn't know. Maybe steal theirs, had they actually had one on them… He shook his head and reserved his energy for catching up to her.
She stopped, finally, beaten by the sudden lack of grass and the onset of twilight. Panting, he drew to a halt behind her, doubling over with the effort of forcing precious air into heaving lungs.
"What're you, some kind of stalker!?"
Stunned, he looked up. The woman's purple eyes were hard, angry. Yet a hint of confusion lingered beneath the veneer of anger.
"I don't.."
"Stop following me!" she snapped. "Geez! You think you'd take a hint by the time we hit the dumpsters, but NOOOO! Go home!" She folded her arms, daring him to answer her. Wind ruffled blue hair.
"What..?" His own confusion was quickly replaced with indignation. "Look! YOU'RE the one who TOLD me to follow you!" he said, fast losing his temper. "What is WRONG with you!?" Half expecting her to be hurt by his statement, he pushed his glasses back up on his nose in order to see her better, in case he need apologize.
Confusion cleared from her face. "Ohhh…" she mumbled, leaning against a newspaper dispenser. "Ohhh… I see…" A yellow nail nervously picked at her lower lip. "I'm sorry…"
"You're sorry?"
"Uh-huh…" she reverted her gaze to the ground. Her feet were bare, scuffed from their run. A few scrapes oozed slightly onto the ground. "It's my fault." She looked at him now. "I have… oh, how to put this…? Memory issues." Now she gave him a nervous smile, blush tingeing her cheeks.
He stared.
"Parents used to say I had the memory of a goldfish!" The smile faded. "Erm… least… I THINK they did…" She looked around wildly, her eyes widening. "Where… are they?"
"This isn't happening," he moaned, sinking down onto the curb. "What was I thinking in the first place…? Asking strange, blue-haired women for help…" He turned, glaring at her. "I bet you never even SAW a van, did you?"
Snapping back from watching something across the road, she put a yellow-finger nailed hand forward. "I'm Dory," she said, another wide smile on her face.
"…Something's wrong with you. Really, really wrong."
She only stared at him.
With a wordless noise of frustration, he put his head in his hands. "This is NOT happening, this is NOT happening…" He was getting a migraine. Hadn't he taken the medication this morning? Had he locked the house? Left the iron on? Remembered to take his spare keys?
Did it matter…?
"What's not happening?"
This time, he didn't even look up. "My son… I went to… pick him up from school… and they were taking him away… I don't know why, or anything. They were just… dragging him off to the vans." Tears were forming in his eyes. "I was so careful. They COULDN'T be social workers…? Unless there's a new law against not having two parents. I just… I have to find him."
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he met sympathetic purple eyes. That was different, but not surprising to him. Dory patted his shoulder once more before her concentration was pulled elsewhere. His attention soon followed.
Night had fallen while he'd been babbling, shrouding the city in a cool blanket. Lights flickered in the looming buildings beyond the park. Trees and small shrubs rustled in the light breeze that kicked up from the river beyond where boats could be seen moving sluggishly back to their moorings. The streetlamps came on, buzzing. This area was vacant by now, the hot dog vendors and magazine clerks having gone home, or off to take a break. None of this attracted his attention as much as a dull roar emanating from down the road. He stood, instinctually moving in front of Dory, despite her stature. The woman stood, peering curiously over him to see what it was exactly that he was hiding.
Streetlamps gleaming off bright chrome, a motorcycle cruised around the corner, black-clad rider eyeing them. It whipped past them once, then doubled back and glided to a stop a few feet away from the two. The man riding it flipped black sunglasses up, sizing them up.
"Hello," he said casually. A grin similar to the one usually plastered to Dory's face appeared on his lips.
"Hi!" the aforementioned woman answered. She leaned around her supposed protector, waving gaily to the man on the motorcycle. "How're you—hey!" The exclamation was dragged from her as her arm was grabbed by the man trying to keep her from harm. "Let go!"
He didn't. "We… really need to be going…"
"Aw, stay a while!" The biker's grin had become a leer. "Who might you two be?"
She had wrenched her arm free, displaying it to the biker. "I'm Dory! And this… um. This is…" She stopped, horribly confused.
That was right. He never told her his name. He'd been so busy trying to sort out what had happened, where he was going… everything. In all this, he'd never mentioned to her his name. Not even thinking, he held out his hand to the biker. "M… I'm… Marlin," he mumbled, somewhat dazed.
"Name's Bruce," replied the biker, shaking his hand warmly. "You lost?"
He managed to shake his head. "We… we were looking… for a van."
Now puzzlement crossed the bandana crowned visage. "A white van?" he asked. "Big yellow license plates?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Is it your van?"
His enthusiasm faded. "Well… er… no. But I… you see… They—the people who drove it… they took my son…"
"Took your kid?"
"I went to pick him up from school and they were hauling him away…" It was funny, the more he said it, the easier it was to believe. "I thought maybe they were social workers.. but… Now I just don't know…" He shoved his hands roughly into his pockets, fingering the loose change inside.
A hand with yellow nails on his shoulder again. "You poor thing…" Dory's mystified voice was strangely comforting; albeit she'd already heard the same thing just a moment ago. "It'll be okay."
Almost instantly after he'd finished, he was being hoisted onto the back of the motorcycle. He let out a strangled sound, watching the ground fall away, taking his glasses with it. The whole world snapped out of focus. He felt himself being placed behind a broad back clad in leather. Another noise escaped him, this one far more frightened than the last. This was NOT happening… One minute he was on his way to Nemo's school with a promise to change, the next he was being accosted by blue-haired women and bizarre bikers with pink bandanas. He needed milk. His ulcer would be flaring up after this for sure.
"Don't worry, chum. Bruce'll get you there before that van leaves off! Hop on Dory, hon."
"Whee!" He felt her slide on behind him, wrapping her bony arms around his waist. "Oh, oh wait, these're yours. I think." She slid his glasses carefully on his nose, her tongue poked out in concentration. This accomplished, she sat back, once again encircling him in her grasp. Her touch put him on edge.
"Everyone settled in? Good!" The bike took off, giving Marlin just enough time to read the back of the biker's jacket before his head was snapped backwards into Dory's chest.
It said, quite simply, "Land Shark."