I own nothing except some original characters I sometimes bring in. Kelley Armstrong owns The Otherworld and all the wonderful information there.
Sleeping with the Fishes
"What are they?" Clay asked. I reached up and sprinkled food into the large tank watching it float on the top and catch the fishes' attention.
"Their called Met...ria..clima Zebra Fish," I answered. I stumbed on the word a bit as I said it. I hoped I had pronounced it right. It was one of those hard words like when daddy and I went to Germany last summer and we had to pronounce German words. We accidently asked if we could talk to the toilet instead of asking where the toilet was at a restaurant.
"Metriaclima?" Clay asked. He got it right on the first try and I nodded. I closed the lid and we sat back to watch the fish swim around and dart up and down gulping food.
"I'm not allowed to have pets," Clay told me. I laughed at this knowing this particular bit of information was more for the protection of the pets then Clay.
"That's because Jeremy's afraid you'll eat them," I told him. He looked at me and then back again and shrugged knowing it was true.
"Jeremy's said no eating pets so I don't eat them," Clay supplied. His eyes followed one of the blue spotted fish all over the tank. He better not think of eating them.
"What about the guinea pig?" I asked. He scowled at this. No one would ever let him forget that incident lest of all me, his best friend.
"It was already dead," he growled. I echoed his words knowing what he would say and more than likely what he would always say when someone brought it up.
"Boy's, how do you like the fish?" my father called. He knocked on the door and came into the room behind us. The fish tank was placed on the wall across from my bed so I could look at it at night and use the light for extra security.
"They remind me of blueberries," Clay said. My father laughed and grabbed us both easily swinging us around before putting us down again.
"Always hungry," he chuckled. He ruffled our hair as he crouched between us to watch the fish. Fish were really only good for watching as pets. They didn't really do any tricks or anything.
"He is a werewolf," Jeremy commented. I turned and smiled at him in a greeting before going back to the fish.
"Nicky, these are very expensive fish poppa got for you all the way from Africa. He got them so you can have more responsibility," my father said. He reached over and gently took my jaw in his hand turning my head to face him. I nodded at his words. Poppa had already explained this to me.
"I hate responsibility," I groaned. He laughed again knowing this was a common trait we shared.
"I know but poppa feels like you need more," he said. He let my jaw go and we both turned and watched the three blue fish swim around and play with one another.
"If you let Nicky vacuum the floors, like I do at home, he'd have more responsibility," Clay piped up. I grimaced. That's one thing I liked about being here, we were rich and we had maids to clean up after us. Though they didn't do everything and they were to be respected. Poppa and daddy said they weren't slaves.
"Clay," Jeremy chastised with a warning tone in his voice. Tonio waved Jeremy off and shook his head. Pick your battles Poppa always said though I wasn't sure if it applied to this situation.
"It's a big house Clay it would take Nicky forever so you'd need to help," daddy teased. Clay shook his head and grimaced like I had.
"Alright, Nicky did you feed them?" Antonio asked. I nodded feeling pride I had completed this responsibility already. Maybe responsibility was not so bad.
"Yup, but they ate it all," I explained. He chucked setting a hand on my shoulder. His massive fingers covered my whole shoulder easily.
"Fish will do that," he answered. I looked over to see Clay's eyes following another fish one I had called Duncan. Clay seemed to be stalking them or maybe studying their movements you never knew with Clay.
"Why did Dominic choose fish again?" Jeremy asked. He came over to watch with us bending to see the tank. It was closer to kid level then adult.
"He seems to think it's the only safe werewolf pet. You don't see werewolves jumping into the water too often to eat fish," he explained. Jeremy nodded agreeing with this statement.
"Not enough meat," Clay said simply. He was totally serious. Jeremy raised an eyebrow but said nothing to this. Clay made us raise our eyebrows all the time. He was odd.
"I named them daddy and I let Clay name one too," I told my father. He smiled approvingly another wave of pride sweeping through me. I was doing alright with this.
"What are they called then?" he asked. I started pointing them out as they swam and darted making it hard to pinpoint them at all or to tell them apart.
"That one's Duncan and that one's Mitchell. Clay named that one Gilbert after the guinea pig," I explained. My father burst into laughter while Jeremy's lips twitched in a rare almost smile.
"Good choice boys. Now Nicky you need to keep the fish clean so why don't you do that before poppa gets home tonight. Then you can show him how responsible you are," he said. I nodded willingly. This was a much better responsibility than cleaning the carpets or doing the dishes.
"Alright daddy," I answered. I looked over at him smiling. My father ruffled mine and then Clay's hair before he got up. They left to go and pursue more grown up pursuits.
"How do we clean it," Clay asked. I scrunched up my face in concentration thinking back to when Poppa told me how to care for them and if he explained that part to me.
"Poppa said he would show me later but I have an idea. Let's do it before he gets home and he'll be really happy with me," I told Clay. He nodded as usual in agreement with what I wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve other children or humans Clay was up for anything.
"But how we do we clean it," Clay asked again. It was simple. How did humans get clean? We would clean the fish and their tank the same way.
"You clean fish the same way you clean yourself. I'll go run the bathtub and then you can help me catch the fish," I told Clay. He nodded his agreement while I took off to the closest bathroom. I began filling the tub with warm water and my bubble bath that smelled like strawberries. When it was started I turned and raced back to my bedroom.
"Ok, we need to check on it in a few minutes," I said. I grabbed the fish net by the tank and then started scooping out fish. I put them in the other small tank that already has some water.
"Keep catching them. I need to check on the tub," I told Clay. He eagerly took the net to fish for fish. Catching fish was a skill so he would be eager to do it.
I ran back to the bathroom and saw the water had spilled over a bit. I turned it off quickly and threw down some towels before going back to see Clay. He had managed to catch the rest of the fish. We both picked up the smaller tank and took it to the bathroom. We ended up sloshing water all over my floor and the hallway before we made it though.
"Ok, dump them in," I instructed. We dumped the tank. It slipped from our hands and crashed into the tub along with the fish. I hope the tub wasn't broken but it seemed fine to me.
"It's in," Clay said. I shrugged and grabbed some toys throwing them in too just in case fish liked to play with them as much as I did at bath time.
"How do we know when their done," Clay asked. I shrugged to this not quite sure. I knew my baths were usually 30 minutes or more because I played a lot but I'm not sure if the same rule applied to fish.
"I don't know," I answered. We both crouched down beside the tub and swiped away the bubbles to find the fish that seemed to be swimming less than before.
"Boys, what's going on here? You know you're not supposed to take a bath alone Nicholas," we both heard a minute later. We turned to see my Poppa in the doorway looking curiously at us since. We weren't actually in the tub but beside it.
"We're cleaning the fish; it's a surprise for when you get home," I said. My Poppa's face turned to one of shock and then anger.
"No Nicky," he growled. He reaching the tub and grabbing the small tank he began fishing the fish out. Clay and I backed away and looked at one another confused. What had we done?
"What's wrong?" I heard next. My father came in next and almost slipped grabbing the counter for support because of the wet floor. He then looked open mouthed at the small fish tank and the fish that looked like they were sleeping at the bottom flipped onto their backs. It was an odd way to sleep but fish were odd creatures.
"Did they fall asleep in the bathtub?" I asked. I looked from my Poppa to Antonio wonderingly.
"Nicky, do you know much I spend on these fish? Do you?" my Poppa roared. I looked confused from him to my father and baked up a bit frightened. I know he said they were worth at least the amount of a car but I had no idea how much that was.
"Lots and lots, that's why I cleaned them before you got home," I told him in a small voice. I was still really confused.
"Did you explain how to clean the tank and the fish?" my father asked. Poppa held up a hand angrily to stop him from speaking. My Poppa considered my father too young to raise me so he often took over when I needed discipline or other things. My father was always there though.
"You are in a lot of trouble. Go to your room. I'm very angry with you," he growled. He pointed to the hallway but I didn't go yet still looking bewildered.
"What did I do?" I asked. My eyes filling with tears as I looked from one adult to another, I then looked at Clay who shrugged.
"Room now," Poppa roared. I jumped back and shot out of the bathroom. I almost slipped on the watery floor. I ran to my own room slamming the door. The fish were clean and they were sleeping, what did I do wrong I wondered. I threw myself on the bed and cried into the sheets.
A few minutes later my door opened but I didn't turn or acknowledge whoever came in. I felt the bed dip and a hand go to my back rubbing circles gently so I knew it was my father. He always rubbed my back when I was upset to calm me down.
"Nicky, come on," my father eventually said. He easily pulled me up and into his lap. I flung my arms around his neck crying into his shoulder as he shushed me. He kept rubbing my back. Finally he pulled me back so he could look into my face.
"Nicky, calm down so we can talk," he said. With his sleeve he wiped the tears from my face and eyes gently as I sniffed and hiccupped.
"Do you understand what you did?" he asked first. I shook my head at him. All I knew was that Poppa was mad at me and I was in trouble.
"I clean the fish and they fell asleep so why is Poppa so mad?" I asked. I hiccupped again as I tried to calm my sobbing.
"Nicky, when we said clean the fish we meant to clean the tank and change the water. Fish can't live in people bath water," he explained. It dawned on me what I had done suddenly. It made me all the more upset and frightened.
"The fish are dead daddy?" I asked. He nodded as a fresh batch of tears came to me. I began sobbing again uncontrollably.
"Nicolas," my father said. He tried to calm me again and again he wiped the flowing tears from my cheeks and eyes with his thumb.
"I just wanted to clean the fish for Poppa. I didn't know it would kill them," I said. I had calmed down a bit more now and could speak. I gripped my father's shirt sleeve like a life saver afraid if he let me go I would fall apart.
"Nicky you didn't know what you were doing sweetheart, its ok," he said calmingly. I saw his eyes flick to behind me as the door opened.
"I just wanted to please Poppa, to show him I'm responsibly. I killed them and he hates me," I cried. I was upset all over again. Poppa would probably spank me for this.
"No Nicky, I don't hate you boy," I heard. I felt my Poppa pick me up from behind and turn me to face him holding me in his big strong arms, the same arms that were strong enough to rip a mutt to pieces and gently enough to reassure a little boy.
"I'm sorry Poppa I didn't mean to kill Duncan, Mitchell and Gilbert," I told him. Teary eyed I tried to explain myself and avoid an inevitable spanking.
"You thought you were cleaning the fish because no one showed you how. You didn't kill them on purpose," he said. I shook my head showing him I wasn't trying to be bad.
"Daddy said they were expensive and I wanted to show you I could be responsible. I wanted you to be proud of me," I said hiccupping. I found I was all dried up of tears but I was still breathing oddly.
"I'm still upset Nicky but you didn't do it on purpose so I'm not angry at you. I'm sorry I yelled," he apologized. I looked wide eyed at him. Poppa was almost never wrong and never sorry because he was the alpha and the head of the household.
"Can I have more fish?" I asked. He laughed now, his big booming chortle resounding throughout the room and the hallway.
"We'll see," he answered. He hugged me to him kissing my forehead and then my hair getting a big sniff of my scent.
"I love you my Nicky," he whispered, he now looked at me and grinning the big 'everything is ok' grin.
"I love you to my Poppa," I said. We hugged again and he now set me down on the bed.
"Good thing or you might have been sleeping with the fishes Nicky," my father chuckled. He grabbed me in yet another hug. The Sorrentino's were a very affectionate family.
"We're Italian not mobsters Tonio," My poppa said. He shook his head and left the room now with me snuggled in my father's arms.
There never were any more fish but that was alright because I have decided pets are not for me. To be honest I really hate fish now. I even avoided eating the damnable things. Whenever I pass a pet shop and see fish in the window I grin like a mad man. I remember what happened with my own fish so long ago and I miss my Poppa desperately.