Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo
Chapter 4 - Eeeee (rough draft 2)
Bruce showed up to work early so he could see Dick for a little while before his shift started. The merboy seemed anxious and restless, and soon showed Bruce his tail, pointing at the half-healed infection.
"A little later, we will give you your medicine. Right now we can talk and play, but later-" Bruce showed the calf his watch. "-at 8:00, it will be time for medicine." He traced the numbers. "Right now, it is 7:30, so no medicine. But at 8:00, yes medicine." He signed the word again. "Medicine."
"...Medicine," Dick repeated anxiously. Then, "No!" he signed, and fled into the depths.
Bruce sat by the pool, looking up things on his phone to kill time, until the 'medication brigade' made their way in. "Call him," Mark ordered.
Bruce pursed his lips and slapped the water. "Dick!" He tossed out a fish.
After a long moment, Dick surfaced, glaring as he munched on the fish.
"Dick, come here. Time for medicine."
"No."
"What is that? Is that sign language?" a woman named Vivian gasped, interested despite her resentment.
"Yes, I've been trying to teach him. He's starting to pick up bits of it."
There was a wave of muted exclamations, but Bruce ignored them, keeping his focus on Dick. "Come here. Time for medicine."
Dick submerged. When Bruce's calling went ignored, the net team went to work.
This time, the struggling was half-hearted, and Dick trilled resentfully as he was towed instead of his usual panicked shrieking. Once they got close, he smacked Bruce's reaching hand and crawled away, but when many human hands took hold of him to strap him down, he started to scream and struggle in earnest. "B'SSS!"
"I'm here, Dickie. Come here, I-" There was some frantic flailing, which ended with Dick trembling in Bruce's arms and clutching at him tightly as his tail was secured. "I know you don't like it," Bruce murmured, moistening his fingers with oil so he could stroke the mer's hair and back. "I know it's not fun, just be patient for a little while and then it will be over for today. You're a very good boy, Dick..."
He worked out his phone and looked up videos to show Dick. After a minute, a trembling, wet finger reached to tap, and soon Dick was watching a pair of trapeze artists perform.
The calf continued to huddle in Bruce's arms even after the timer finally went off and the straps were removed. "...Do you want to go swim now, Dickie?" Bruce asked gently.
"...Ffi'sshh?"
"Fish? You want some fish?" Someone quickly set a piece of food into Bruce's hand, which he offered to the calf.
Dick frowned, but ate it. He pointed to the timer. "Ffi'sshh."
"Oh, finish," Bruce realized. "Yes, medicine is finished now," he said, enunciating carefully and wondering if it would be a mistake to sign with one hand (the other was currently occupied holding Dick). "You are eating a fish." He pointed to emphasize the difference. "Fish. Finish."
Dick looked at the small remainder of the food in his hand. "Ffi'sshh?"
Bruce walked him through the proper pronunciations, and then Dick signed, "No medicine?"
"Medicine is finished," Bruce signed back.
Dick's eyes darted around at the humans (most of them filming him), then experimentally lunged into the water. When no one pursued, he peeked out from a safe distance.
"Dick will go and swim, or Dick will stay and talk?" Bruce asked.
After a moment, Dick approached, baring his teeth at the other humans to warn them to keep back, and tugged on Bruce's leg. "Swim," he signed, then pointed at Bruce.
"All right. I will swim with you, but first, I must put on my gear."
Bruce stood up and stepped away from the pool for the rebreather and the rest. Dick watched in as much fascination as before, breaking his gaze only to snap his fangs at the woman who got too close and attempted to reach out to him.
When Bruce was ready, he got into the pool, and Dick drew him down. This time, they spent hours playing and dancing in the water, and Dick never once tried to kill him.
o.o.o
"Dickie," Bruce said a few days later, "I brought you a gift." He unfolded the T-shirt he had seen in a gift shop on the way to work and presented it to his little friend. He had already coated the inside with oil to make it more comfortable for the mer to wear.
Dick chirped in interest and fingered the shiny design, which was a star wearing sunglasses.
"Do you want to put it on? Do you want to wear the shirt?"
Dick seemed nervous about the garment going over his head, but after some mild flailing, Bruce managed to get it on him and then leaned back. "What do you think? Will you keep it on, or do you want me to take it off?"
Dick touched and picked at the shirt, evaluating. He held it out away from his body, then dropped backward into deeper water.
After a long minute, he surfaced and did his close-mouthed smile at Bruce. "Good," he signed. "Pretty shirt."
"Yes. That is a T-shirt, and what I'm wearing is a polo shirt. Shirt, T-shirt. Shirt, polo shirt."
Dick's face twisted. "I don't like it."
"I know it's a silly distinction, but it's important to some people."
"You come swim. I wait, we swim."
"All right, I'll be with you in just a moment," Bruce said, reaching for the nearby bag with his swim gear.
o.o.o
Weeks passed. The calf picked up more and more human language, though English was difficult for him to pronounce and he showed a solid preference for ASL. Bruce, in turn, soon realized that Dick actually already had a sign language of his own, which tended more toward broader arm, hand, and tail gestures than the intricate finger and face work of ASL.
Stunned by the realization that mer language was apparently much more complex than originally thought, he pored over every video he could find (they were mostly of captive mer, since free ones were so difficult to locate), and found that the signing wasn't unique to Dick. From what he could tell, mer gestures were just as much a part of their language as the vocalizations were. Though Bruce started learning mer language as a hobby, his primary job at ABAZ was interacting with Dick, so Vivian and a couple of newly hired linguists tackled the full-time project of deciphering mer language.
Dick became resigned enough to actually come when he was called for medical treatment every morning as long as it was Bruce doing the calling, and in the final week, no one even bothered to strap down his tail at all.
Even after the infection fully healed, the calf still remained wary of all humans other than his favorite. He grew a little more tolerant of some of them, but did not allow anyone within reach of him unless Bruce was nearby, preferably holding him.
Bruce spent a very large percentage of his waking moments with the mer or at least in close proximity, since he'd quietly moved a sleeping bag into the office and Mark, though likely aware of the situation, never told him to stop camping out at work. Bruce, who had applied for the ABAZ opening while feeling adrift after abandoning his path to teaching, was now very thankful that he had taken the unpaid internship, since getting paid would have meant less leniency when it came to the extra hours he was spending at work.
Soon after Dick was healed, there was talk of putting him on display. "We won't get to work with him as much," Bruce said unhappily, superficially including the linguists and biologists with the pronoun but really meaning 'I.'
"It'll be limited at first," said Judy, the zoo's corporate liaison. "Just a few hours a day, probably scheduled. Maybe we can design a show around him."
White-hot rage spiked through Bruce. "His parents were brutally murdered in front of his eyes during a show they were being forced to put on."
"I don't appreciate your manipulative description," Judy said frostily. "It's not 'murder' to put down an attacking animal. Besides, the calf was very young, he's probably forgotten all about it."
Bruce opened his mouth to point out that evidence indicated mer lifespans were very similar to humans' and that there was no way an eight-year-old child would forget something like that, but Mark cut in.
"It'll be bad PR if activists get wind of an exotic rescue animal being used for shows like that again. We can just try a simple habitat display and see how things go from there."
"Fine, but you'll eventually need to work it up to something with more draw," Judy sighed. "It's a waste to watch a mermaid just swimming around doing nothing."
"Maybe we could have Bruce play with him in the habitat," Amanda suggested. "I- I could watch that all day, I think it's very interesting to watch them interact."
"No one cares what you find interesting, Amelia. Customers come here to be entertained, and watching some random guy throwing fish at a mermaid isn't most people's idea of entertainment."
Everyone else in the room looked like they were holding back strong words, but no one actually spoke. Judy briskly tapped her papers together and put them away in her briefcase. "All right, then, put the habitat together and start getting the marketing people to work on advertising. Meeting adjourned."
Bruce immediately went to the mer pool, followed by a few people who had found time to watch. Bruce stepped onto the submerged ledge and hadn't even finished bending down to slap his palm against the water when he saw an approaching shape.
He quickly sat down and braced himself just in time for Dick to come launching out of the water and into his arms. "Hello, Dickie."
They cuddled for a moment, Bruce's whole front becoming drenched and a bit slimy from the mer calf wrapping limbs around him and nuzzling into his neck, not to mention pressing his soaking wet, tie-dyed T-shirt against the man. "Boose." They'd been working on pronunciation along with vocabulary and grammar. "Boose Boose Boose," the calf hummed.
Bruce stroked the calf's back for a minute. Then Dick abruptly hoisted himself away. "Scooter board!" he signed.
"Be polite."
Dick bared his teeth, but signed readily, "I want scooter board, please."
"All right, Dickie, I will fetch your scooter board."
As soon as the device was near enough, Dick eagerly hauled himself completely out of the water and laid belly-down on the board. He reached out to pull himself along, but Bruce firmly planted a hand on his back. "Wait. I need to put a towel and gloves on you."
"I do not like to wait," Dick pouted, but stayed still long enough for Bruce to lay wet towels over the calf's tail. Dick also needed loose gloves while he was using the scooter board, since otherwise, he would scrape up his palms on the rough concrete.
As soon as Bruce granted permission, Dick reached out and started hauling himself along, the wheels giving him quite a bit of speed. The calf started with a perimeter check, hissing at the spectators until they moved sufficiently far enough out of his way. He pushed at the door of the storage unit, as he always did even though it was locked as usual, then rolled into the office. He pulled himself from the scooter into the chair and looked around from his new vantage point. His face lit up, and he pointed at the new item that had not been in the office last time.
"My parents sent this to me," Bruce said, handing the photograph to the mer, who inspected the entire frame and then stared at the picture again. "This is my mother, Martha, and my father, Thomas, and our friend, Alfred. They got a new puppy a few days ago. A puppy is a baby dog. He is a German Shepherd dog, and his name is Ace."
"Baby," Dick mused.
"Baby dog. Puppy."
"Baby do'ck. Puppy," the mer repeated, his voice lisping and accented but understandable.
"This particular puppy is named Ace. His name is Ace."
"Ace. Hello, Ace."
Bruce smiled. "Very good."
"Good," Dick signed, then added aloud, "Dick ggood."
"Yes, you are very good."
Dick thrust the photo at Bruce and flopped back onto his scooter, impatient when Bruce stopped him to reapply the towels. Dick rolled out of the office and to the large entryway, which had been barricaded. He pushed at it. "Bad! I want to go there, please!"
"It is good that you asked politely, but no, Dick, you must stay here."
"Angry!"
"I know. I'm sorry."
Dick rolled on until he'd reached the edge of the pool. Then he turned to Bruce and asked, "I want push, please."
"All right, I will push you." Bruce stepped closer, leaned down, set his hands on the mer's back, and pushed so that the calf went sailing across the concrete more quickly than he'd ever be able to propel himself.
"Eeeeeeeeee!" Dick shrieked in pleasure.
Bruce pushed him back and forth for a while, then said, "Dick, I am tired. Amanda will push you now." He wasn't actually tired, but he wanted Dick to get more comfortable with being handled by humans other than himself.
"No! You push me!"
"No, I am finished pushing for now. If you want to be pushed some more, then you must let Amanda do it."
Dick bared his teeth, but didn't retreat, so Amanda cautiously approached. At the last minute, the mer's displeased wariness turned to fear, and he dragged himself to Bruce's feet. "Boose! Sscare!" he pleaded, clinging to Bruce's leg.
"There is no reason to be scared. Amanda is safe. Do you want Amanda to push you, or are you finished with pushing?"
"...Boose pussh," Dick whimpered.
"No Bruce push. Either Amanda push, or no push. Do you want Amanda push, or do you want no push?"
After a long pause, Dick let go long enough to sign "Do not hurt me" at Amanda before grabbing Bruce's leg again.
Bruce interpreted, and the woman crooned, "I won't hurt you, sweetheart. No one's going to hurt you. We just want to play."
She tried giving him a fish; he ate it but didn't warm up to her. It was only when she held out the hand with her engagement ring sparkling on one finger that Dick perked in wary interest.
"Do you like my ring?" she asked. "It's very shiny and pretty. You like shiny, pretty things, right, Dickie?"
She patiently held out her hand until Dick ventured near enough to inspect the ring. He cooed as he turned her hand this way and that, watching the sunlight play through the sparkling facets of the jewel.
"This is called a 'ring,' Dick," Bruce explained. "Ring."
"Week."
"Rin-guh."
"Wi-guh."
When the mer seemed relaxed enough, Amanda, moving slowly, set her hands on his shoulders, making sure to stay in front of him where he could watch her. "You want a push, Dickie?"
"Push!"
"All right, here we go!" Her first try was too light, and Dick squealed in displeasure when he came to a halt just a couple of feet away. "I'm sorry!" Amanda gasped, "I'm sorry! Let me try again, honey, I'm so sorry." She managed to get it right the second time.
"Eeeeeeeeee!"
Amanda smiled in relief as she watched him sail away. "He's so cute."
Her third try was successful as well. Her fourth try sent Dick rolling right over the edge of the pool and into the water, prompting dismayed exclamations from the spectators clustered by the entryway.
Amanda stared at the spot where Dick had disappeared with her hands clapped over her mouth and her eyes wide with horror, but a moment later, Dick popped out of the water, waving the scooter board high over his head with both hands. "EEE!" He tossed the scooter back onto the concrete and signed enthusiastically, "Again! Please!"
The second time Dick got scootered into the pool, he swam in several quick circles underwater and then breached twice in a row, prompting gasps. No one had ever seen captive mer breaching without being prompted by humans; there was some debate about whether such behavior was even natural.
'Guess that answers that question,' Bruce thought.
Dick surfaced again and swam to the edge nearest Bruce. "Off, please!"
"All right." Bruce crouched down to remove the calf's waterlogged gloves.
"Scooter board finished. I want you swim, please. Ggea'," the mer added aloud.
"That's right, I have to put on my gear before I swim with you. Can you say 'thank you' to Amanda for pushing you?"
"Thank you," Dick signed carelessly, not looking at her.
"Thank you for letting me play with you, Dick," Amanda said warmly.
TBC
A/N: I, understandably, could not find an ASL translation for "scooter board," but I figured there would be some way to convey the term that experienced signers either know or could make up.
I dropped the ball and let this dead end route go on longer than it should have, but here it is if anyone's interested:
She tried giving him a fish; he ate it but didn't warm up to her. It was only when she pulled off her engagement ring and held it out that he perked in wary interest.
"Amanda, you might lose that ring," Bruce instantly warned her.
"Rings are replaceable." She held out the ring patiently until Dick at last snatched it away and inspected it closely. He cooed as he turned the ring this way and that, watching the sunlight play through the sparkling facets of the jewel.
"Dick, borrow," Bruce warned. Then, since it wasn't a word the mer already knew, "You will look at the ring, and then you will give it back. You will borrow it, and when you are finished, you will give it back to Amanda."
Dick eyed him in a way that Bruce suddenly realized was trouble. Then the mer opened his mouth and started to put the ring inside.
Bruce's frantic grab for the ring before it could be swallowed resulted in panicked shrieking, and Dick started to haul himself frantically toward the pool; Bruce, seeing the mer starting to hurt himself, snatched him up and ran forward a couple of steps until he was near enough to throw the calf into the water.
Submerged, Dick zipped around in a few agitated circles before retreating to hide in the farthest corner for over half an hour.
When the mer finally surfaced again, it took several long minutes for Bruce to coax him close.
"You are angry at me!"
"No, Dick, no, I'm very sorry. I am very sorry for scaring you, Dick. The ring was safe to play with, but it was dangerous to eat. I was scared, Dick. I thought you might get hurt, so I was scared."
"You are angry, hurt me."
"I'm so sorry. Will you let me look at your tail, Dickie? Please let me look at your tail and see if it's hurt?"
Dick reluctantly lifted his tail out of the water. There were some bedraggled scales, but he didn't seem to be outright injured. As soon as Bruce released him, the calf raised his hands dolefully. Bruce exhaled in mild amusement and carefully removed the waterlogged gloves. "Better?"
Dick opened and shut his hands several times, then signed, "Good." He looked at Bruce. "Small shiny is bad?"
" 'Small shiny'? You mean Amanda's ring?"
"Ama'kda i'?"
Bruce showed him pictures of rings on his phone and taught the mer how to say the word more-or-less correctly.
