It's been four days since they came for Esca, but since the element of surprise or the precious anonymity they had the first time is no longer on their side, it seems as though they've left Marcus and the boy alone for the time being. Marcus has been ghosting through his daily routines ever since- not sure what else to do, but knowing it's not over yet. Esca has been too afraid to go back to the cove, staying only God knows where and occasionally popping up to alleviate Marcus from his Cottia duties or to share a silent meal. Things between the two of them have been tense ever since the night under the bridge.

Marcus wants to just take the three of them and leave- never looking back, never regretting a moment, and finding a life that would take them for who they are. But Esca has been arguing that he just started to set down roots, just started to feel comfortable with himself again and he's voiced concerns over Marcus and Cottia resenting him later on in life for taking away everything they knew, everything they had planned and hoped for. He refuses to be the cause of so much upheaval, but there's something else there- something Marcus can't quite guess at. He's not sure how, but he knows that Esca's holding something back, that there's more to his unwillingness to leave. He doesn't know how to broach the topic with the two of them only seeing each other sporadically and usually only for a few spare moments. He wishes that he could just take the boy into his arms and let him know that it'll all be alright, that he'll still love and protect him no matter what happens, but he hasn't found that perfect moment to yet.

Indecision isn't doing them any favors and their little trio seems to be caught in this odd sense of limbo, time slipping by even though they stand stock still. It feels as though they might be caught there forever and Marcus can't stand the thought of it- of this rift between all three of them being made permanent, of letting those men win. He waits until the next time that Esca comes over and asks him to keep an eye on Cottia, knowing he has a soft spot for her and will stick around a while to do so. It's simple enough, and once the two of them are preoccupied- caught up with the little music box Esca stole away from the house before abandoning it- he steels himself, grabs his jacket, and heads out to his pick-up. Marcus is no longer content to just let the world pass him by as he tries his best to stay afloat; this time he's determined to do something about his situation, to do more than cope. He's put the truck into gear and is just about to pull away when the passenger door swings open and Esca swings himself inside, a stern look pulling at his features. "I know what you're doing- I'm not stupid Marcus."

Marcus thinks he should be angry at this, thinks he should tell Esca to mind his own business and go back inside to take care of someone who actually needed his close attentions, but instead he just ducks his head and feel ashamed for getting caught. "I- I have to do something!" Marcus lays his head on the steering wheel and stares at his hands, feeling truly useless for the first time in his life. Before it had all been inaction- choosing not to do something when he could, but this time he doesn't know what to do. He'd thought maybe he could just go have it out with Placidus, see if physical intimidation would get him anywhere, and if not that then maybe try and make a deal to keep Esca safe. In the end that's all that matters to him. Even if it means he can't have the other man for his own, if he has to be unhappy for the rest of his life, Esca is his top priority.

"You really think they'll give you what you want?" Esca doesn't sound harsh despite the frustration clear on his face and Marcus wonders if he feels just as hopeless.

"I have to try." Marcus sits back up and takes a deep breath, turning to face Esca. "I won't sit by and I can't keep waiting for them to make another move. I'm sorry." Esca stares at him for a long time, his expression unreadable, but eventually he gives a slow nod and opens the door again. He turns to get out, but after a moment's hesitation he reaches back and grabs Marcus' hand. He grips it fiercely and bites his lip, looking as though he's searching for the right thing to say. He's worried, Marcus can tell, but there's still that mysterious something underneath that twists his stomach. In the end Esca just nods again before letting go and heading back into the house, not looking back.

Marcus makes it all the way into town before he notices that something's not right. The street's alive with a nervous energy that sets him on edge and every person he passes seems to look straight through him. He parks in front of Placidus' favorite pub, a seedy place appropriately named The Sea Hag. There's a crowd of people trying to press into the doors, a desperate sort of fear evident in the way they kept close to each other and whispered in frenzied tones. Marcus wonders if it all might have to do with him and Esca, but reconsiders when he pushes through the masses with little resistance. They seem dazed and barely even register his advance as he slowly, but surely makes his way inside.

The sour stench of alcohol hits him like a wall when he gets inside and he can feel his insides crawl as he at once craves and recoils from it. His instincts tell him to turn back and get out of here as fast as he can manage- that he's not ready to be around drinkers again, no matter how casual. It's something he's been steadfastly staying away from, these last three years. The thing he so wishes he could pretend didn't worm itself between him and his remaining family. He's not sure that he's strong enough for this yet.

He's not exactly in the most solid states of mind right now, and that can only spell disaster. Instead of dashing for the exact like he knows he should, he soldiers on because he knows that he might never work up the courage to confront Placidus again. When he gets to the bar he immediately gets pulled by his elbow down onto a stool and looks over to see Liathan, bleary eyed and dour. While Placidus more or less runs this town, his smarm and cutting wit along with his wealth and near monopoly of the businesses in town working to easily sway the people, everyone knows Liathan is the real brains behind every move he makes, being a member of the town council he can orchestrate everything behind the scenes. The two of them are close in that competitive way that only business partners can understand- at once looking out for one another but keeping an even closer eye for an opportunity to get the upper hand. "Where've you been, Circus?"

His words slur just enough for Marcus to tell he's been here for a bit, but he still has his mind about him. "What's going on- why's everybody acting so strange?" Liathan raises his fingers and the bartender rushes over to place two shots in front of him, leaving behind the other customers without question. Liathan takes one and raises it to his lips, taking a breath before throwing it back and hissing after he swallows. Still wincing he pushes the other in Marcus' direction.

"Show some respect would ya?" Liathan throws up his arms and gestures to encompass the whole of the bar. "It's a wake!" Marcus' brows furrow as he looks around for a coffin, or even to just see if anyone's actually garbed in black, but if this is truly a wake it had to be impromptu. Seeing his doubt Liathan gives a vicious smile. "Last minute notice, but I would've figured even you'd heard by now!" He orders another drink, this time a wide glass of something dark and strong smelling. "Placidus tried to drive himself home after one too many last night- hit a wall and went straight through the windshield!" Liathan drags a finger across his throat and gives a sad, wry sort of smile. "Stupid bastard."

Marcus wonders if this makes his situation worse or better and then immediately feels guilty for thinking only on how this affects him. Placidus may have been an asshole and a bigot, but a lot of people here genuinely liked him for some reason or another, and he would never find himself being ill-mannered towards the dead. "I'm sorry." It's all Marcus can manage to mumble and for a few seconds, he thinks the other man didn't hear him.

"What for? I can't actually blame anything on you this time- you didn't even know." Liathan takes another long draw from his glass before looking pointedly at Marcus' still full shot. "Jesus, Circus. The man's dead!" Marcus grits his teeth and clenches his fists a few times before grabbing the glass and knocking back the fluid. It burns harshly in his throat and his eyes water, but it's familiar and almost welcoming. It frightens him. But Liathan just grins like the cat that got the canary and asks for a bottle from the top shelf before turning back to him. "Now I suppose you'll want to be discussing your water baby." Liathan idly studies his nails and takes a swig from the bottle before passing it to Marcus and waiting for him to drink in turn.

"But I'd actually like to bring that original proposal of yours back to the table- what was it… a kind of eatery yes?" Marcus knows he should be interjecting, should try and take hold of this conversation before it goes places he doesn't want to see, but he's so overwhelmed by everything, his footing having changed dramatically in less than a year and the alcohol's already leaving him heady, his body shocked by it after having been deprived for so long. Liathan takes advantage of his silence and moves on, pressing his fingers against the bottom of the bottle to press it to Marcus' lips. "Get rid of the boy, Circus. He brings good luck for you, but the imbalance taints ours. I'll make sure he's left alone though, and that you finally get what you want." Marcus can see he's trying to gauge the response of his offer, but Marcus himself doesn't know what to think. "Turn a new leaf, choose the people over this 'creature of the sea'." Of all the things Marcus had prepared for, this wasn't one of them. So he takes another drink. "You keep that, nurse on it while you mull things over and get back to me in the morning." Liathan lays what Marcus is sure is supposed to be a comforting hand on his shoulder and looks straight into his eyes. "Make the right choice."

Marcus stumbles out of the bar something like three hours later, refreshed bottle in hand and a remarkable sense of calm about him. He doesn't even know that he's made a decision until The Eagle comes into view and he finds himself pulling her towards the dock, pausing occasionally to take a drink. He hops on board, tripping and falling to his knees, but making sure not to lose a precious drop of Liathan's thoughtful gift, before untying her and heading into the captain's booth. He starts up the engine and plunks the bottle down, steering her safe of the other boats before opening up the cramped entrances to the bed below that serves as the rarely used boat's quarters. Esca is staring at him, swaddled in blankets with confusion on his face. Marcus isn't sure how he knew the boy was here, thinking perhaps he knew all along, but didn't want to admit it. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Marcus can hear the quaver in his voice, but the guilt that would normally clench his heart feels far away now- out of body, like it might be someone else's emotion. "'Cuz you're a selkie, and I'm an alcoholic." Marcus smiles as though he's said something delightfully clever before his expression turns serious and his voice grows hard. "Restful night's sleep, had ya?"

Esca's breath shudders before he turns his face into the blankets and whispers back, "No… they're still out there somewhere." He looks back at Marcus and wraps them tighter around himself.

"Okay, I'm taking you home." Before Esca can ask another question Marcus slams the door shut and leans his weight against it as he turns the engine to full speed and grabs for his bottle, ignoring the increasingly hard fists that Esca is throwing against the wood.

He doesn't let you out how, no matter how loudly you scream or how roughly you slam yourself against the door and eventually your throat is raw and your knuckles bloody. You try to take comfort in the dull thrum of the engine like you always do, but it feels foreboding now, and every wave that crashes up against the hull makes you flinch away from the cramped walls. You could tell that he wasn't himself and so when he eventually does let you out, you try and keep your distance and watch your words and actions. You sit on the floor and watch as he takes pull after pull from a bottle and sails further and further from the coast. You pull your knees up to your chest and try to fight down the panic that has you breathing shallowly. After a while he wipes at his face and looks down at you with his brow knitted, frowning. "What are you?"

It's just a whisper, but it still feels like an accusation and you will the tears pooling behind your eyes not to fall. "I am…" You search for the word, but it's just beyond your reach, one of those things that you can see but can't quite grasp, so your tongue speaks it for you. "I amysbryd." You're not sure what it means, but it feels right. You can tell it's not what Marcus was looking for when his face twists and for the first time you find yourself afraid of him, of what he could do. You grip at the wall behind you and slowly come to stand, watching him carefully as dozens of emotions war across his face before you bolt for the deck.

Though he's lumbering about and unbalanced from the drink, his sea legs are still better than yours and he catches up easily, face red as he screams, "What does that mean?!" His hands grab your shoulders and he pulls your back flat against his chest. He's hurting you, but the more you try to wriggle away the tighter he grips. He lets go of one shoulder to grab at your jaw and his fingers press tight as you're no longer able to hold back the tears, breath hiccupping as you let him guide your sight. Out just ahead of you is a massive rock they've built a lighthouse on, seagulls and seals sharing the little bit of space that's available. "Look- you're home. You'll be safe there." Marcus sounds desperate instead of angry now as he pushes you back towards the booth. "You can sing your song and be out in the open."

You try to turn around and face him, try to figure out what's going through his head and whether or not you can reach him. "Who will I sing it to?" You sound panicked to your own ears and find that you can't swallow past the lump in your throat, that whatever breath you can pull in is tight in your chest, but not enough for your lungs.

Marcus shoves you inside as he moves back to the steering wheel and continues to yell even in the closed room. "Go ahead! Sing- make all the seals dance and the fish jump. Make the waters move to your beck and call."

You stay hunched in the corner but stamp your feet in frustration, no longer able to contain your emotions even if it makes Marcus more unstable. "I can't!"

"Well why not?" He drinks from the bottle again, though most of it runs down his chin, and you wish you could smash the wretched thing.

"Because you're drunk!" Marcus looks genuinely hurt for a moment before he turns back to look at the lighthouse.

"I'll be sober in the morning- you can sing to me then." What's left of the journey is spent in silence, Marcus only looking at you briefly to make sure that you're still there as he tries to remain steady enough to dock. When he makes it in he grabs for your hand, fighting you for it before gripping your wrist and wrenching you forward and out onto the rock. "I fished around here for years and was never bothered by this selkie stuff…" He looks back at you as though you're the cause for everything bad that's happened in his life, and you think that he must be so relieved to have someone else to blame after he's shouldered so much for so long. "And maybe you were dead, and I did bring you back to life, but… that doesn't mean anything!"

You pull free while he's distracted and can't help yourself from yelling back, "Well maybe it doesn't!" He stops cold in his tracks for a hard second before he rounds on you with his fist in the air, crowding up over you and bringing it right up in your face. You shrink down from him, knowing if he got violent there's no chance you'd overpower him, and in his state he could do a lot of damage without realizing it.

"Now you're gonna haunt me, huh? Is that it?! You'll haunt me forever!" Marcus grabs hold of you again and pulls you up on the stairs that lead in a spiral around the island to the lighthouse, yanking you along as you throw your weight back and plant your feet.

"What does haunt mean Marcus?" He doesn't answer as you get closer and closer to the actual building, your dread rising with every step. "What does haunt mean?" You keep asking and asking because the word tastes wicked on your tongue and the way he said it made your heart twist so painfully it actually staunched the flow of tears in shock. "What does haunt mean?" Every time you say it, it gets quieter and closer to a plea than a question.

The walls and stairs are covered with wild grasses, flowers, and moss, but the chipped paint, rusted metals, and decrepit infrastructure of the building make the place seem eerie- that same clash of hard stone and delicate beauty that you'd find in a cemetery. And for some reason that comparison is too chilling for you to even think about. When you reach the top of the stairs he lets you sit as he leans against the wall and looks to be polishing off his bottle, neither of you daring to say anything. Eventually he comes to sit by you and offers up his drink, but you stare resolutely ahead and frown. "What? So selkies don't drink?" He shrugs as though you're really missing out on something and looks ahead to try and catch what you're staring at. You don't give him an answer and eventually he breaks the unnerving quiet again. "So… you'll be safe here, is that alright?"

The next breath you draw in is shaky and you wonder if his question means what you think it means, if he'll leave you here after morning comes and you sing to him one last time. You don't want to think about it. "How's Cottia?"

Marcus stares at you for a moment, eyebrow raised, but takes the change in topic as smoothly as he can manage. "She's fine… She's safe too." He goes to drink again when he realizes that he's finally, finally reached the bottom of the bottle, the container revealing just how big it was now that it isn't shrunk by the dark liquid that was inside. He looks it over for a while before tossing it, end over end, for it to smash against the rocks below. He's careful when he stands, taking a bit to let his head adjust before he starts walking around the lighthouse to go down the steps again. "I've got another bottle on the boat."

At this rate you wonder whether he'll ever have time to get sober or just drink himself to death. Maybe that's his plan- stay drunk so you can't sing your last song and he can't leave. "Marcus… what does haunt mean?"

He keeps walking, but mumbles over his shoulder. "It means what you're doing… to me." You listen to his clunking steps and wonder if he'd really stay here with you, if all of this was just him getting what he wanted and whisking you away from that backwards town and its crooked people. You pull the sleeves of his jacket down over your hands and wiggle your feet in his boots, breathing in his smell, just noticeable under the fish and now pungent alcohol. You can't imagine where you'd be without him, who you'd be, if you'd even still be alive. It's an odd thought, that Marcus is the person responsible for everything that you are, and it distracts you enough that you don't notice how long it's been since you heard Marcus' footsteps- until the roar of the engine breaks you from your thoughts.

The fear you felt before was nothing compared to what nearly incapacitates you now as you hurry to stand and run down the steps. "He wouldn't!" You scream it aloud at first and then chant it over and over again inside your head like a mantra as you try not to trip in your over-sized boots along the uneven steps. "Marcus! Marcus, don't!" You scream as loud as you can manage when he comes into sight, sprinting across the docks and reaching for the rope that's still tied to The Eagle's hull. You know that you couldn't possibly pull a boat in against its motor, but you scramble with the rope all the same, not caring that it burns your hands as you tug at it desperately before Marcus looses the knot that ties it to the ship.

"I know this isn't how fairy tales end, but this one does!" He's just started to cry himself, the first time that you've seen him do it as the boat slowly chugs away from the docks, away from you. "It has to."

You stand at the end of the docks, never having felt so useless and out of touch with your own body as you can do nothing but watch while Marcus and the boat inch further and further to sea. "What do you mean?" Your tears have come back and you think you must truly look like a child now as you stamp your feet in frustration and tug at your hair. "What do you mean?"

"I mean your kind, and my kind- we don't belong together!" You're not sure whether Marcus is referring to you being different from everybody else or whether he's drunk enough to believe the townspeople and is saying that the two of you can't be together because you're the same. Maybe he doesn't even know.

"But- but I have to say goodbye!" The boat starts to gain speed now that it's worked away from the docks and Marcus steals away into the captain's booth. You know that he can't hear you anymore, but you still have to say it. "I have to say goodbye to Cottia too." It doesn't take long before the trawler is nothing but a dot on the horizon, but you continue to watch that spot for hours afterwards.

You spend as much time wandering around the lighthouse as you can handle, stretching out across the rocks, pacing the stairs, watching the seals, but eventually you spot a storm rolling in and as the black clouds advance more and more of the animals begin to leave. You walk up the steps and find the door to the building padlocked- the nearest windows too high for you to break and climb inside. You allow yourself just a few minutes to lay your head against the cold stone and cry, to let yourself feel hopeless and broken before you descend the steps one last time. Instead of heading to the docks you climb over the low wall they've built around the path and out onto the craggy rocks that you saw the seals resting on not too long ago.

They all started swimming for an outcropping of rocks you can just make out against the dark waters. There's only a 50/50 chance you'd make it too, maybe less now that the clouds have reached the island and blotted out the early morning sun, but you figure that if you can swim all the way out there- you'll just be that much closer to shore. You have no idea what you'll do if you make it back, Marcus no longer wanting you and unsure you'd be able to take care of yourself, but it's better than wasting away on this island.

So when you make it to the rock closest to the water, you strip off the jacket and boots Marcus gave you- tossing them behind you, and after a moment of deliberation the shirt, pants, and underwear that he bought you. You are no longer his, you are no longer the boy that was fished from the sea. You take a deep breath and return to the waters, hoping to be reborn again.