The ocean was… hypnotic, amazing, terrifying, sublime, powerful, consuming, present. And, now that Terry didn't have to worry about trivial things like breathing and temperature, he had all the time in the world to enjoy being present in that presence.
He'd always felt a certain kind of way about the ocean, always seeking it out in some capacity in his daily life- juvie had been hell in more ways than one. The ocean forced you to be present in ways that the air did not. The ocean was pushing, pulling, moving with enough force to drag you along with it if you weren't mindful, and that stimulation was both captivating and freeing in a way Terry didn't know how to express he needed. He'd been obsessed with marine life as a kid (something that made his marine biologist dad very happy), he'd apparently pestered his parents enough about the beach as a child that it became a monthly tradition to visit, and he'd always taken seats in class that had views in the direction of the harbor if he could help it. Now, visits to the ocean consisted of more than jumping over crashing waves, collecting rocks and catching a glimpse of the occasional dolphin or ray.
Now, instead of being able to hold his breath for impressively long periods of time, he could just breathe in water. Now, whole pods of dolphins (Tursiops Truncatus, thanks dad) could and did swim up to him to play for an hour or two. Now, he had the directions of different underwater currents and riptides around Gotham harbor memorized. Now, he could spend days sitting on the ocean floor watching the sunlight trickle down in hypnotic patterns. Not that he did, of course -Terry would never want to worry his mom like that- it was more a matter of principle and the fact that he could. Because now…
Now he was Mer.
(Privately he thought if he'd been raised mer he might've had a fixation on land creatures instead, just for the fun of it.)
The first week had been. Well, hectic would be putting it lightly.
After the party and the chase and the Jokerz and the lighting and the accidental discovery of the secret cave which then led to the accidental discovery of his own mermish-ness, the night had ended with him hazily making his way back to his dad's place, crying to get out of the usual interrogation/argument/shouting match and stumbling into bed with only enough presence of mind to strip off his wetsuit and put on dry socks before zonking out hard enough to miss breakfast and lunch the next day. In fact, he only came to when his dad gently shook him awake and pressed a phone into his hand. Terry then immediately drifted off hard enough to be startled awake again when Dana's voice came out of the phone with the clipped call of-
"Terry!"
"Uh?"
"Oh my gosh Terry I've been trying to call you since nine but I forgot I still had your phone and so I called your dad a while ago and he said you were fine but to call later and so now I am but it's still just so- i don't know. Terry are you ok?"
"Y-" he tried to speak, but his throat was so scratchy and really, really salty and he had to take a quick moment to hack up a lung, which didn't do much to support his reassurance to Dana, when he finally did manage to croak out a weak "Yeah."
Wow he felt terrible.
Memories from last night filtered in while Dana continued to fuss. Not that he could fault her, of course, but his concentration on the conversation was lax as he re-lived the moments of cold-surprise-fear and dark-pain-confusion and relief-surprise-shock that had encompassed his night after he'd led that gang of Jokerz away from the beach party. Dana let him off the line a few minutes later after saying something about 'statement', 'dad' and 'police', with a quick assurance about not being in trouble thrown in too. Then he was left alone. Exhausted and sore with aches all over and the strangest itch around his neck, yet too awake to fall back asleep now that he could remember…
Terry shot out of bed- he was really awake now. Wide awake and rooting through his wetsuit (which was still sitting in a sopping pile on his carpet), then across his floor, then through his blankets in frantic search of proof. Proof that would mean the strangest part of his night and the aching of his gills neck was real and not just some hyper-realistic dream he had post adrenaline crash. Proof of the lightning and the mansion and the cave because it just had to be a dream it had to. How could he have made it all the way from Wayne's Bluff and back home in the time he had? How could he have escaped those Jokerz? How could he have...he...how could…
How could the necklace be sitting in his palm?
The necklace that had been in the tube which had been in the cave which had been under the mansion and had turned him…
No.
No there's no way, there's no way, there's no way.
But-
His hand was slowly turning a deep inky black, his feet suddenly felt less like they were touching and more like they were one limb and his neck itched.
He dropped the necklace. It was glass and red and called to him -somehow it called to him- and he wanted it wanted it wanted it but he-
He really needed to go to the bathroom.
And then he needed to have a breakdown.
Slaggit this was not his day.
Turned out, when the police showed up later that night, it wouldn't be to collect a statement, but a body.
Two days after the funeral there was a man at the door calling himself Timothy Drake wanting to talk to Terry.
Two hours later he was in a car with Timothy Drake on his way to Wayne Manor. The Wayne Manor. Because apparently their place was official enough to be a Manor, capital M.
Pulling up to The Manor (Terry didn't think he'd ever be over that) at a leisurely pace in the afternoon light was a lot different than frantically running up the stairs from the beach access in the middle of a storm at two am. For one, he now had the time to appreciate all the nicely sculpted hedges lining the driveway and the regal sort of gothic look of the old architecture.
He had been well and truly confused when his mom brought him to the living room to meet the man "from the aquarium", but quickly got the message when the man gave him a look and tugged on a little pendant he'd been wearing -a pendant in the same bat shape as the one sitting in his desk drawer- before introducing himself as:
"Timothy Drake, he/him."
"Terry McGinnis, he/him as well."
Then Mr. Drake had given his mom this whole thing about Terry's supposed application for an internship at the Wayne Marine Biology Rescue & Research Centre (which, according to a quick web search, was actually a real thing), even going so far as to produce paperwork (what on earth?) and offering to take Terry on a tour of the facility before anyone actually put any final ink to paper. His mom had been excited, if a bit stunned, and all it took was for Mr. Drake to shoot him another significant look before Terry was forced to assure her that 'Of course! He would love to go on a tour of this marine biology centre that he definitely knew about and definitely applied to last month!' He also definitely forgot to tell his mom because he just didn't want her to make a big deal out of it or anything. Definitely.
So here he was, walking into a secret cave by way of a secret door that he had found barely a week ago. Just a day before...
A lot of things had changed in a week.
The cave was different this time, though. Still an obnoxious collection of bat-themed items and tech, but this time, there were people.
Multiple people.
Multiple Mer-people.
When Mr. Drake gave him a little nudge on the elbow, Terry realized he'd been staring. And blocking the bottom of the stairs.
When he'd cleared out, Mr. Drake led him to the edge of the little lagoon? Pool? Whatever- access platform thingy that the humans were standing on and the mer were swimming next to.
Right.
The old Bat Mer from that night was staring right at him with this sort of gaze that left Terry wanting to scuff his feet on the ground and plead 'not guilty'. His hand twitched toward the pant pocket where he'd stuffed the pendant.
Aside from the Bat Mer there was also a mer who looked decidedly more human than the Bat, but who still had deep green scales and spines creeping up their arms and tail, a smaller mer with bright yellow eyes and pitch black skin that looked less like skin and more like an oily translucent sheen, a mer with rich bluish sort of scales and a head of black hair (like the green one but curler) and a red headed human in a wheelchair all staring at him with varying levels of interest and contempt.
"Uh. Hi? I'm-" and here he had to stop because his voice broke. His voice broke! He was trying to introduce himself to one of the most legendary figures in all of Gotham and his voice broke oh please someone just kill him now.
He coughed to try and recover, but didn't miss the overly amused look in Mr. Drake's eye or the slight snicker from somewhere off to his left. Slag him.
Ears on fire, he was finally able to bite out a quick "I'm Terry" before the person in the wheelchair took pity on him by introducing themselves as "Barbara, she/her.", which was apparently prompt enough for the others to start their own.
"Cass, she/her."
"Damian, he/him."
"Dick, he/him"
Which was all well and fine but Dick? And he did mean Dick right and not dick because yeah it was a stupid thing to get caught up on but could you really blame him for freaking out when-
"Bruce, he/him"
When the bat. The legendary Bat Mer of all people. Had a name like Bruce? Bruce? When was he born, like the nineteen forties or something?
When Mr. Drake snorted and the snickering from before (which was definitely coming from Cass, now that he thought about it) returned in full force, Terry realized he had blurted that last part out. Him and his slagging big mouth.
The Bat Mer- Bruce had a wicked twinkle in his eye and just the edge of a smirk at his lips when he replied "Something like that"
"'Something like that', oh please B, don't antagonize the kid."
"What, am I not allowed to have a sense of humor?"
"Not that you've now spontaneously grown one while we're trying to do business."
Their banter, fun as it may be, somehow managed to make the situation both weirder and more normal. Which, considering how the rest of Terry's day had gone so far, was not an oxymoron he was sure he appreciated or hated. Ugh. Stupid Jokerz leading him to accidentally discover the stupid secret society of Gotham Mer.
"Terry."
The sudden call of his name snapped him back to the moment. He locked eyes with Ms. Barbara, who again seemed to be leading the discussion.
"While I'm sure this is both upsetting and sudden, we really can't put off talking about your powers any longer. Plus, I'm sure you have lots of questions. We'll do our best to give you answers." She said this all with such compassion in her eyes and sincerity in her voice and all Terry could say in response was-
"Oh."
Questions. Right. Questions about the whole scaly… situation. Truthfully, he'd been too tired since… well… since that night to actually think about what had happened, so instead he put all his energy into not thinking about what happened. Which turned out to be fairly easy because he'd now spent the past week trying very very hard not to think about anything that had happened. Hence he thought about… ugh. Slag this. He was just thinking in circles now while a bunch of living legends stared at him and made him feel like he'd been called into the principal's office. But he had to say something.
"I guess uh. I dunno, what the f**k?"
A round of chuckles broke out in response to that elegant solution of his, but it was the blue guy, Dick, who actually gave a reply.
"That's fair. I guess we should start from the top. Do you have the pendant with you?"
"Oh, yeah." Terry fished the thing from his pocket with the handkerchief he'd brought along just for this. No way he was touching that thing right now. "Mr. Drake had me bring it." he said, holding it up for the others to see. It glinted in the light that bounced off the water beautifully. Enticing and inviting- calling to him in a way that Terry had been trying to ignore for a week and was Very Pointedly going to ignore now.
"I suppose you want to know what it is?"
"Yes please."
Looks were tossed around the room now as they seemed to parse out some final details before Dick spoke again.
"They're vessels, specialized vessels, for a potent transformation spell. They allow us merfolk to take on power and strength beyond our own- these ones also carry charms to disguise ourselves. You know, like a uniform for when we do fieldwork."
Terry nodded. That made sense. Store magic in a necklace that lets you transform and hide your identity. Fit the M.O. of someone like the Bat Mer.
"Ok, that rips. Sorry I took it, by the way. Do you guys want it back then? Because I really wouldn't mind-"
"Terry."
This time it was Mr. Drake who called to him.
"If this were a normal case, I would have just come to your house and asked for the pendant back."
Oh…
"But the thing is,"
Oh no.
"These pendants only work on merfolk."
What.
