"Can a human breathe underwater?"

"Of course not–!"

That's how they always began. Those cursed dreams. The ghost that haunted him every night.

But they always ended differently. This time–and Fly couldn't remember how–he ended up in a cage in Joe's massive lair inside the shipwreck.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get past the bars.

"I won't ask you again. Where do you get more of that potion?" The usually calm and collected voice, smooth as velvet, was seeping with unbridled rage.

"I don't know…" Fly said, rather lamely. "Please…I already told you."

"You've told me nothing!" Joe barked. It was weird. Fly couldn't even see the pilot fish, only hear his voice. Yet, the boy trembled as though Joe was looking him straight in the face, his eyes and lips ready to bust at the seams. "I know that you know. You can't hide it from me."

"Please! Let me go!" cried Fly.

Brief silence followed. Then Joe said in an icy voice, "Perhaps you need an incentive."

To Fly's horror, a scream echoed throughout the spacious room. The boy's head darted around frantically, but could still see nothing. As far as he could tell, he was the only one in the room. But the scream sounded as though it was right there in Fly's presence.

"Fly! Helllp!

"Stella?" A massive lump in his throat choked him. "S-s-stella!"

He felt a rush of strength from the adrenaline. It was as though he turned into a superhero and he bent the bars with his own two fins. He swam as quickly as possible to find the source of the sounds.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt a sharp pain rip through his side. His sister's screams continued as he slowly drifted to the ground. His eyes caught the menacing grin of the crab, who held his claw above his head.

The scenes replayed vividly in his mind as he stared at his morsel of breakfast cereal. He had only eaten one or two. Somehow his appetite had disappeared.

"How did you sleep, Fly?" his mother asked him. She was at the kitchen sink washing some pots and pans.

The fish snapped back to reality. "Huh? Oh, I slept okay."

Stella, who was at the breakfast table, stirred her cereal and milk with a plastic spoon. "I couldn't sleep, Mommy. I kept thinking about Sasha."

"Sweetie, it's like we talked about yesterday." Lisa gave her daughter an assuring smile. "Sasha's probably playing with her little seahorse friends in the ocean. I bet she's very happy."

Stella frowned, scooping up milk and pouring it back repeatedly. "But I still miss her. She's my best friend."

Fly felt much sympathy for his sister. She and Sasha had really bonded, especially after everything they'd gone through together. She'd helped the three children out of trouble once. Heck, even Fly thought about the seahorse from time to time.

"She misses you too, I'm sure," offered Fly.

Stella nodded, but retained her solemn expression. What was there to say to her? Sasha was back in the ocean where she belonged. Fly didn't want to give her any false hope that they would see each other again. In the vast sea, what were the chances of even finding her anyway?

The ring of the doorbell disrupted his thoughts. He looked toward the sink to see his mother still scrubbing a pot.

Stella decided to take the initiative. Her mood changed right away. "I'll go get it!"

"Sweetie! Wait for Mommy!" Lisa shouted, quickly turning off the faucet and running her hands through a towel.

But she wasn't fast enough. Stella had already reached for the doorknob. Upon opening the door, she smiled and waved her little hand. "Hi!"

The voice that spoke next, Fly recognized right away, his heart sinking. Great, he'd forgotten about them.

"Hey, Stella!" the breaking voice of a preteen boy greeted. "Is Fly there?"

It was Karl, one of his friends from school and his soccer team. There was no doubt that he'd brought along the other two in the friend group, Oscar and Lukas, with hockey sticks and roller blades, ready to start up a game or two.

"He's over there," the girl said, pointing to the kitchen. "In the fish tank."

Fly gritted his teeth, trying to figure out what to do next. What would happen if they saw him like this? How would he explain it to them? I guess the truth is all I got, he decided.

The fish chortled to himself when he pictured their reactions. He could see Oscar and Lukas freaking out, but Karl trying to play it cool like it was no big deal. Fly figured it wouldn't be all bad. After all, they were his friends. They'd understand.

Although, Lisa came running like she was trying to stop a bomb from going off. She gently scooted Stella to the side, taking her place in front of the child. She forced a smile. "Hello, boys! What can I do for you?"

"We wanna know if Fly can hang out," said Lukas.

Lisa froze for a second, and then told them, "Sorry. He's not feeling well today."

"He's not?" That was Oscar.

Lisa shook her head, putting on a sympathetic expression.

"Well…okay. Guess we'll come back later," said Karl. "Just tell him we came by."

"I will," Lisa said, waving.

When the boys skated away, Lisa closed the door and let out a sigh of relief. She gave a stern look at Stella. "You do not answer the door unless either me or Daddy are there with you. You understand?"

The little girl stared down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Mommy…" She sounded like she was about to cry.

Lisa knelt down in front of her daughter and directed the girl's face toward hers. "It's okay, sweetheart. You didn't know." She planted a kiss on her forehead. "We just want to make sure you're safe. Okay?"

It may have just been a hunch, but Fly suspected a different reason, one unrelated to Stella at all.

Stella nodded. The two females of the family returned to the dining area, Stella's hand clasped in Lisa's. She led the little girl back to her seat at the table, and headed back to the dishes.

She looked at her son apologetically. "You know who was at the door?" she asked.

"Yeah," Fly said in a low voice. He turned to his mother with pain in his eyes. "Are we gonna tell them at some point?"

Lisa took a deep breath. "I don't know." She again put on her positive facade. "We won't worry about it now. We'll figure something out."

Fly was beginning to hate when she said that.

The rest of the day went on without incident. While Lisa worked some her job from home, Stella and Fly were planted in front of the TV, watching just whatever was on. Unfortunately for Fly, his sister was in control of the remote, and they watched hours of the preschool programming. Don't misunderstand, Fly was usually tolerant of it, especially since it made Stella happy and he didn't have to stick around after one show.

But hours of it on end was becoming unbearable. He could only take loud obnoxious singing and patronizing speech for so long.

"Fly? You think Sasha would like this show?" Stella asked out of the blue.

Fly plastered on a smile. "I think so. "

"Me too," she said. Boy, she was sure thinking about Sasha a lot.

"Stella, you think we could change the channel after this?" Fly tried to ask as nicely as he could.

"Okay!"

Well that was easy.

However, before her show could end, Stella had dozed off. Her body leaned to the side of the chair, and her mouth was hanging open.

Oh great!

"Stella. Stella!"

The girl didn't stir.

"Stella, wake up!" He said as loudly and sharply as he could.

No dice. The girl seemed knocked out completely.

The fish sighed. Until either she woke up or Mom came in the room, he was dealing with candy colored creatures and wheels on buses.

To make matters worse, the days following played out exactly the same. Fly was the kind of kid that needed stimulation. Sure Fly eventually got to watch the programs he wanted, but he was becoming bored of them. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to do something, even if it was riding his skateboard to the park, or chilling out on the beach.

But Mom said no. Because, she reasoned, who was going to supervise him? How could she be sure he would be safe in the outside world? Besides, someone would have to take him out in the fish bowl, and she couldn't because she had to work, and Stella was too young. And by the time Dad got home, it was too late. Everyone, sans Fly, was tired and didn't want to go anywhere. "Some other time," he was told, but that "some other time" never came.

Fly wanted to remind her that he'd dealt with sharks, octopuses, and piranhas before. Even more, he was thirteen years old and not a little kid. But he held his tongue because Mom didn't seem in the mood to argue, and it was pointless anyway.

Fly didn't even realize an entire week had passed, and was surprised when MacKrill showed up for the first checkup.

On their doorstep, the old scientist seemed a little confused as though we wasn't sure if he found the right address, but seeing Bill and Lisa was the assurance he needed.

"All right, let's get down to business, shall we?" said MacKrill. He was carrying a small bag with two handles that was full of utensils. He knelt in front of Fly's aquarium, smiling a greeting. "And how have you been, my friend?"

Fly shrugged. If he was going to be honest, life as a fish was a pretty dull one. But he was going to suck it up because there was nothing he could do about it. "Pretty okay."

"Good, good! Do you feel pain anywhere on your body?"

"Nope."

"Are you having any trouble breathing?"

"Nope."

This went on for minutes more, questions ranging from how he felt after eating and how he was sleeping. Based on how Fly answered, everything was fine. Except maybe for his psychological well-being, but MacKrill never brought any of that up.

Then the professor checked his pulse, and the quality of the water in the tank. He asked the parents a series of questions about how they were doing regarding taking care of Fly's physical needs, and gave them pointers on how to do better.

And then it was over after an hour.

"Join us for lunch, Professor," Lisa offered as the man prepared himself to go.

"Oh I'd love to stay, but I have much work to do," said MacKrill. "Perhaps next week when I return."

Then he was out the door, back to the lab. Fly wasn't sure if he would look forward to the next visit if it was going to be all the same stuff again. He'd just repeat all his answers verbatim week after week.

Finally one day, Fly couldn't take it anymore.

"I want to go out!" He insisted. If he had a foot, he would have put it down.

"Fly, I can't today–" Lisa began.

The boy didn't let her finish. "That's what you said all last week! There's always an excuse!" Fly was breathing hard. "You guys always ask me if there's anything I'd like to do. You'll let me play board games or watch TV. But when I mention going outside…"

"Fly, please…we've been over this."

"And those reasons aren't good enough! Why can't I go outside? What's the real reason?"

He gave his mother an expectant look, his brow tightened. He didn't have the patience for non-answers right now.

Lisa was biting her lip, looking deep in thought as though formulating what she would explain to her son.

"Oh, and I noticed we haven't had people over in a long time," Fly added, cocking an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

His mother gave a surrendered sigh. "Fly, don't think that we're ashamed of you. That's not it at all."

"Then what is it?" he demanded.

His mother swallowed a massive lump in her throat. "It's just…" Her hesitation lasted for several seconds. Fly still stared at her, not missing a beat. "...it's that I'm still not sure how to explain to everyone…"

"The truth?" Fly stated as though it should be obvious.

"Yes, ideally," said Lisa. "But would you believe it?"

"If I saw a talking fish, yeah."

Lisa sighed. "Look, Fly. We'll deal with that crossroad when we get to it, but for right now, we're going to lay low. Understand?"

"Not really," her teenage son mumbled.

Shaking her head, Lisa headed upstairs. "I need to get back to work. Send Stella for me if you need anything."

Fly grumbled under his breath. So it was true. They were hiding him on purpose. He never felt so belittled…betrayed. They were his parents!

The teenage rebellion that was bubbling inside of him was now reaching the surface. He saw his little sister at the table coloring with her crayons. He had an idea. It would totally go against his parents' wishes, but he didn't care anymore.

"Hey, Stella!" he called out.

She looked up. "What?"

"Pull a chair up and grab the fish bowl."

"Why?" The girl asked.

He grinned with excitement. "Because we're going to the beach. You wanna come, don'tcha?"

He needed to convince her. Find a real clincher that would sway her to his side. "'Cause we're gonna look for Sasha!"