A/N: Writen for the WritersMonth2021 challenge in Tumblr, with the choosen word 'secret'. I wanted to dedicate them at least a small one-shot, because Marlin x Dory has been an OTP of mine for the longest time.

Warnings: Flashback depictions of characters' death, a mother and a baby. Emotional pain.

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He would keep it a secret. She would never know…

"Marlin, look, look!"

She pointed at the TV enthusiastically, with a wide smile. "Pirates! I love pirates!"

Marlin shaked his head.

"Look at them, they all look so jolly, living in the sea… I love the sea… Don't you love the sea?"

He carefully hid the jar of sugar, the vanilla, and the chocolate syrup from the counter, vowing once again not to let all of those in her reach before breakfast.

"Marlin…? You still there?"

"Yes, Dory" he sighed inaudibly, sending a glance her way.

"Have you ever been by the sea?"

"Dory, we met by the sea."

"Oh. Oh, yeah, you're right. Sorry, it slipped my mind for a moment" She chuckled lightly. "I could not forget that. Not for long, anyway."

Dory crossed her legs, seated on the couch, and Marlin once again wondered why couldn't he just forget about it. Forget about the way she made him feel, or erase it altogether.

She had always, since the very beginning, made him feel more alive. For a while, it had been fine. Just fine, actually. After she moved in with him and his son Nemo, they had so many new experiences, the three of them, that it made him simultaneously joyful and guilty.

Some of those experiences were definitely things that he would have experienced alongside Coral, his wife, had she not died. Watching Nemo go up and down the park with his bike, while they ate sandwiches, sitting on a bench, talking about nothing, and everything. Taking turns to wash the dishes, going out for grocery shopping, and going out for ice cream on weekends. Taking Nemo to a friend's house, and having to face the anxiety and the fear that something might happen to him. That someone might take him away, again. He would have shared those fears with his wife.

But his wife was not there. Instead, it was Dory the one who patiently heard him vent. The one who patted and rubbed his back when she saw him getting too anxious. The one that smiled at him, even though she was scared too, as she admitted, and he could scarcely believe it, with how brave she acted. How her smile kept its strength, and made him feel strong too. Wordlessly, he had taken her hand, and squeezed it gently. And she squeezed his hand back. They remained that way for a few seconds, before she claimed that she would go back to bed, because it was "already waaaay past her bedtime."

It was an innocent phrasing, to say that she would 'go back to bed' and he knew it; but still, he couldn't help but feel a bit stunned and awkward when he heard her words. He bid her goodnight, and she walked towards her own dorm, without paying attention to how his eyes followed her until she reached the door.

After that, the situation started to become messy.

And the worst part: no one knew it, but him!

A dangerous secret, that could easily destroy all that they had built together. And he would never let that happen, not even if he had to close his heart forever to the idea of love.

He thought he already had, years ago, when both his wife and daughter died. She had been carrying twins, and they told them it would be a difficult delivery. But they had no idea to what extent. As fate would have it, there were 'complications', and he couldn't remember how many hours passed then, or how many doctors he saw fracticaly going in and out of the room. They wouldn't let him in, so he could only watch from the outside. For hours and hours, he didn't eat, he didn't sleep. Then, they told him, words more, word less:

"I'm so sorry, sir. We did all we could. Your son is alive."

Your son is alive.

Indeed, only he was alive. One of his arms was shorter than the other, mind you, but he was healthy for the most part. And alive.

When he could finally hold him, he broke down.

The moments after were a blur, and for quite a while he couldn't even bring himself to think about his wife. And even once he was able to remember her without tearing up, or feeling a hole on the chest, he was sure he would never love another woman.

And now, after years of pouring so much confidence on that idea, he suddenly wasn't so sure anymore.

"Marlin?"

With start, he looked up, just to find Dory observing him with a concerned stare.

"Is something wrong?"

"N-no" he cleared his throat, with a remarkable interest in wiping the kitchen counter, "Nothing's wrong."

It would be his secret, he swore innerly. Perhaps his most important, intimate secret: That he had grown to care for that woman, beyond the boundaries of friendship. Beyond what he ever thought he could feel again.

Of course, there was no way he would have known that Dory had secrets of her own; unless, perhaps, if he had looked at her at a precise, exact second, when she sent him a wishful, longing glance. But he didn't look at her, she smiled, and both of their secrets were safe.