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typewritingyip · 24 days ago

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty - Missions

Part Nineteen

———

Initially from an outside perspective, one might think that every country was rapidly ready to work together after the initial invasion of Earth. Those early days of 1984 certainly felt like the start of something changing. Dozens of events happened before September 4th that year.

83 people were killed in a mine explosion in Japan, the Los Angeles Raiders won the Super Bowl, Apple launch the Macintosh computer, the first untethered spacewalk happens from the space shuttle, US troops pull out of Beirut, a national drinking age is set in the United States, the Olympic Games open in Los Angeles while the Soviet Union boycotts, multiple booms are set off in multiple airports during the year, and NASA space shuttle Discovery takes its maiden flight.

Even the days after the initial sightings the world still turns; Australia abolishes the death penalty on September 5th, genetic fingerprinting is developed on September 10th, Prince Harry is born September 15th, the US Embassy in Beirut is bombed September 20th, and October 12th has an assassination attempt on British Prime Minister Margret Thatcher.

Just because the world was under attack by an entirely foreign enemy didn’t mean that everyone was ready to work together.

Japan, the United States, the USSR, Ireland, and China were the first five countries to have mech suits ready for deployment and they all were entirely different. Japan had redesigned theirs from the base suit under production to resemble familiar animation from the country's entertainment industry, very colorful and reassuring to their public. The United States initially had very militaristic designs, using majority military contractors to build the suits but painted similarly to war planes of different eras. In the USSR, they also were very militaristic but unlike the US kept coloring to a minimum, they used the citizens of the outer parts of the USSR to build the suits. Ireland wanted to quickly join the game, they quickly started to repurpose the disrepaired oil rigs from the North Sea. Lastly, China effectively was able to contract certain works from other countries to assist them in their manufacturing of suits, mostly from the USSR.

The world kept spinning even while under attack, but for most of the first attacks it was remaining in either country sanctioned waters or off the coasts of major cities. With the Cold War going on, each country was on its own unless it had a major ally with suits.

—

Sunstreaker sat at the window, frowning out at the glowing city, fidgeting with his hands. Breakdown and Sideswipe were asleep but Jazz was pacing nearby, “Do you think the meeting would be this long?” Already shaking his head, Jazz sighed, “Not for Hound and a few others. Command will still be in the meeting but not one Hound could hear.” Sunny’s fist hit the window and he stood, “Then where the hell is he? Do you think he could have crashed already?” Jazz winced and absently rubbed at his implants, “I don’t think the crash would happen this soon, no.”

The Crash (verb): the overtaxing and overuse of a mech suit to the point of biological deterioration.

He looked back out the window, “Then where the hell is he?” Jazz sighed a bit, finally sitting down, “He’s probably talking with other mechs from the meeting. If half the people I know were there then it’s entirely possible the poor man is stuck in a conversation with Tracks.” The look Sunstreaker gave Jazz had the man lifting his hands, “We’d have gotten an alert if anything really bad happened. Sunny, Hound is fine. You don’t have to worry.” Raking his hands through his hair, the curls stand on ends and Sunstreaker shakes his head, “He’s the only one with experience commanding a group like us, I mean Jazz, if something were to happen to him it would either be you leading us or Breakdown and he’s down for two weeks with a concussion.” Nodding slowly, Jazz sighs, “I’m sure he’s just at command asking far to many questions, look, once Prowler gets back we’ll have an idea of what’s going on.” Sunstreaker turned back to the window, lightly scratching at his implants, Jazz scowled, “Don’t mess with your hardware so much, we don’t have a medic out here and it’s a pain to try and salvage.” Jazz’s own tech was older than Sunstreakers’ and betting integrated.

That was one thing about Sunstreaker, his tech matched his brothers exactly but it had taken him longer to integrate it, and the skin around the hardware was always a little red. Even after passing compatibility testing, the body preferred to reject the hardware whenever it could, a person who didn’t have the strongest bond with their tech would deal with a lot more of the compatability side-effects, such as nightmares. If it wasn’t for Sideswipe, Sunstreaker would have never been a pilot and would currently be sitting in a jail cell back on Earth probably still awaiting trial.

Jazz moves over and rests a hand on his shoulder, “Hound wont have crashed if he is just starting to experience overuse symptoms. And even if he did, the mechs here in Iacon wouldn’t have just left him on the street.” The door pinged behind them and Sunstreaker looked over, deflating at the sight of Prowl whose face was staring intently at a data-pad, but another mech came in behind him, staring around in bewilderment, “Wow,” Bluestreak’s hand reached out to touch one of the suits just as Prowl’s hand smacked his, “Don’t touch their suits, the humans are probably asleep.” He glances up and pauses, staring at Jazz and Sunstreaker, “Or not.” Jazz was grinning, but Sunstreaker dove for his helmet, cringing at the smell as he pulled it on and started to adjust settings. Waving an arm, Jazz is able to speak up first, “Hey, welcome home!” Bluestreak was grinning, walking over as Sunstreaker finally gets his helmet to pipe in the translations, sighing as they feed him both audio and captions on the visor.

Mecha are able to cross the room in only a few strides, generally Cybertronians’ are slightly smaller than the average suit but they move just as quickly, next thing Sunstreaker knew was he was back in Bluestreak’s palm stumbling against it, “Damnit!” Sunstreaker desperately grabs at one of Bluestreak’s servos before Prowl moves over just as quickly, “Bluestreak, do not pick up any humans.” Sunstreaker just manages to get the microphone in his helmet on, a small speaker opening up on the side, “Bluestreak, this isn’t funny!” It was as if the room stopped for a moment, Bluestreak was frowning at Sunstreaker and looked to Prowl, “But he is so small and hard to see from far away.” Jazz was struggling not to laugh as Sunstreaker flips him off, “I can understand you now, asshole.” The room shook slightly as Prowl walked over, resting a hand on Bluestreak’s shoulder, “I’d recommend putting the human down before he starts to pull at your plating.” The result was Sunstreaker hitting the window sill surface from a few feet up and groaning, rolling onto his side briefly.

Prowl sighed deeply, “And they are fragile without their armor, like if we were to walk around without our plating, having exposed protoform.” Bluestreak winced and tried to reach out again but stopped, “I, I…” Sunstreaker slowly got back up, rubbing his arm painfully, “I’m alright Blue, but fuck, please be careful.” Jazz had already climbed for the window to Prowl’s open palm, then up his arm to his shoulder, “These guys don’t have the magnets that I do Blue, especially Sunny and Sides, their suits are too new and didn’t need those parts.” He leans back against Prowl, smiling as the mech moves to sit, already pulling out a tablet, “The humans will have to sleep soon, so whatever you wish to talk about I’d recommend doing so now.” They stare a glance before Bluestreak turns to Sunstreaker, offering his hand, “I’ll be careful.” Slowly and carefully, Sunstreaker climbed onto Bluestreak’s palm, sparing a glance towards the window before looking at Blue.

They didn’t go anywhere, Bluestreak just held Sunstreaker a bit closer, “I can hardly see you down there, without your suit.” Sunstreaker rolls his eyes, “That is such bullshit Blue and you know it, you just want to be able to hold an organic.” “Maybe.” They shared a smile, but Bluestreak shook his head, “No, I just, I want to say I was sorry for what happened. I didn’t realize.” Nodding, Sunstreaker fixed his helmet slightly, “That is kind of the point. We know there are some of your kind that don’t particularly like organics like us and even only part organics are seemingly shunned.” He sighed slowly, rubbing at his implants briefly, “Us pilots are very much leaning towards that inbetween.” Bluestreak nodded, keeping his hand still, “Well, I’m glad you’re on our side in this fight, Sunny.” It almost made him feel better, almost.

Looking back out the window, Sunstreaker sighed, “Do you know how the meeting with Hound went?” Bluestreak shrugged and josulted Sunstreaker a bit, “No, not really. I wasn’t in the meeting, why? Has he not come back yet?” Shaking his head, Sunstreaker rubbed at his face, “No and now I’m starting to worry, Hound is the kind of guy to push himself to the limit to protect people, and those people probably would be us.” With a bit of a nod, Bluestreak slowly sets Sunstreaker down, “Why else are you worried?” Glancing back, Sunstreaker stared at Bluestreak, “Cause he’s the only one who can actually lead us, keep us alive, and on mission.” He pauses for a moment, glancing towards the other room, “If he’s not okay and we fail, then I’ll have doomed my own brother to death.” Sideswipe might have made sure Sunstreaker got a place in the pilot program, but Sunstreaker got them on Arcturus One, “Oh.” Blue nodded and crouched to be at eye level with Sunny, “You’ll have to explain that to me at some point, I, I know organics age faster than we do. Sure, we die but not as quickly as organics.” Smiling sadly, Sunny turns back to the window, “I’m a young pilot Blue, I’ve got at least another twenty years in me.” And that made Bluestreak’s spark clench painfully.

—

Everyone was asleep when Hound returned, headache back to a painful degree that even the dimmed visor and diminished audio could no longer help. Mirage had been nice enough to help him back to the building but Hound had insisted on going up himself so as to not disturb the others. The door was even painfully loud when he went in.

The living room was empty, the door to the bedroom shut and the door to their makeshift garden also closed, meaning everyone should be either in bed or at least asleep. Everyone had a preference for where their suit would sit through the night and Hound shuffled as quietly as he could over to his designated space, easing himself to the floor before turning off his assistance suit and visual feed, sighing as he removed the pieces attached to his implants. The areas of his implants throbbed painfully. It took a lot longer than normal to get out of the mobility suit, wincing at every pinched connection, Hound knew this was the signs of overuse but hadn’t expected them yet. Though to be fair with himself, he’d never piloted a mech this long and consistently, ever.

Easing himself out of the piloting chair, he doesn’t even bother with opening the suit, instead shuffling over to the cot he has for missions, pulling off the barrier clothes pilots wear with the assistance suit. It was sticking to his skin both from sweat and blood. It takes another long few minutes to pull on the clothes laid out on the cot before falling onto it face first, trying to relieve the stress on his implants, pressing his face into his pillow Hound moaned painfully. Headaches, body aches, implant irritation; were all the first stage of overuse symptoms and they’d only get worse until the body adapted to the amount of use. Adapt or die.

Hound was laying face first on the cot, hands resting over the implants on the back of his head and sighed slowly, it was dark and comfortably warm. His head was pounding and it felt like his body had been hit by a bus, he was stiff and just wanted to sleep. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to get to sleep.

—

Staying asleep however was not in the cards for him, as only a few hours later something was hitting the chest of his suit. Hound groaned and dragged his hands over his head before getting up, moving over to the suit release and opening the front of the suit. Squinting against the flood of light, Hound kept a hand on his head, “Morning,” his voice was gruff with sleep and Sunstreaker was glaring, “What the hell.” Sighing deeply, he comes out of the suit and nearly falls, “God, damnit..” he sighs and looks back to Sunstreaker, “Yes?” “Where were you? What the hell happened at that meeting? Prowl wouldn’t say anything.” Sighing deeply, Hound rubs his face, “There is a bar in Iacon that plays music from earth.” That quickly dropped Sunstreaker’s sour expression, shifting to one of shock, “What?” Nodding, Hound rubs at his implants next, his hands came away with dried blood and he scowled, “There is a bar somewhere in Iacon that picked up on radio signals from Earth, they put them through some sort of mechanism to clear up the audio.” Stepping around Sunstreaker, Hound starts towards the bathroom, rubbing his hands on his pants, “It’s from thirty years ago, but still.” Sunstreaker shakes his head a bit, “So it’s the best hits of the eighties?” Giving a so-so gesture, Hound shrugs, “Sort of.” He goes into the bathroom, the door closing and locking behind him.

Sunstreaker scowled again, “That doesn’t explain what happened at the meeting!” His fist collides with the door before he turns away, heading over to where Sideswipe was setting up breakfast, he glances up as his brother approaches, “That sounded like a fun conversation.” Huffing, Sunstreaker walked over and picked up one of the bowls, scowling down at the fluorescent contents, “What is this?” Sideswipe was heating the fluorescent noodle like substance and shrugs a bit, “Not a clue, but Jazz made it for me before the last mission and it’s pretty decent. Just kinda tastes like potatoes.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker sits and starts to eat, shaking his head a bit, “I can’t believe him, the guy looks half dead.” Sideswipe hums, “Let the old men be old men, come on Sunny, just relax about it.” Scowling, he starts to shake his head, “I can’t relax about it cause you don’t give a fuck.” Sideswipe was fast, but Sunstreaker was faster, just dodging the bowl full of hot food.

Hound came back out of the bathroom to chaos, which he didn’t appreciate. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were on the floor, shoving at each others faces, Prowl was standing to the side with Jazz perched on his shoulder like a pirate, Breakdown was frowning down at the twins from the table and Bluestreak had appeared from god knows where. Rubbing his face for a moment, Hound takes a breath, “What the hell are the two of you doing!” Both twins shot up and pointed at each other, “he started it!” They shouted in chorus and Hound started towards them, “I don’t care who the hell started it, it’s over now. Get your helmets on, we aren’t leaving anyone out of this conversation.” His head went back to pounding, the shower having relieved it for hardly a moment. Glancing towards Breakdown, he nodded slightly as he too was giving signs of a headache. It took a moment for them all to get to their suits and get their helmets on, Hound wincing as it connects and Breakdown doing the same.

It was likely that his signs of overuse would be exacerbated with the concussion, Hound hoped silently that he’d follow the two weeks of rest order.

“So, do you all need those helmets to understand us?” Bluestreak bends down towards Sunstreaker, offering a hand carefully even as Sideswipe kicked at his wrist, “Don’t fucking touch him.” “Stop arguing, now!” Hound’s voice was loud but slightly strained, climbing up to the table. Everyone fell silent, Bluestreak helping Sunstreaker to the table, Prowl lowering Jazz to the surface and helping Breakdown up before Sideswipe, stepping back slightly to take a seat. Sighing, Hound rubbed his face a bit, swearing, “Fuck, my head is killing me and your arguing is not helping.” Everyone stayed quiet as he slowly sat down, “Firstly, as I briefly mentioned to Sunstreaker earlier this morning. Yesterday, Mirage saw that I was struggling with a migraine and brought me somewhere quiet and dark to rest for a little while. After that, I found out that the specific bar he took me to clears up intergalactic radio waves for entertainment.” he sighs a bit, smiling some, “They were playing music from Earth.” The reaction all happened at the same time, Jazz shouted, Sunstreaker grins, Sideswipe practically jumped for joy and Breakdown smiled, “From when?” Breakdown’s voice was quiet but distinct, “From about thirty years ago, they were playing a radio station out of Los Angeles.” Sunstreaker paused and nodded slowly, “We really are thirty lightyears from home.” There was a weight that settled over them, Jazz nodded slowly, “But we're alive.”

Hound nodded, adjusting his visor for a second, “We are and were out here for a reason, so that does bring up what was discussed in my meeting with command yesterday.” Jazz shifted a bit, “Hound, are you sure now is the best time to discuss this?” Nodding a bit, he pushes off the ground, “You all deserve to know what plans have been made.” Sunstreaker reaches out and holds his arm a bit, “It can wait till after you’ve eaten and taken something for your headache.” Shaking his head, Hound holds up a hand, “We’ve all got new assignments, separate from each other.” The silence would have been welcoming were it not so compressing, “What?” Sideswipe was slack-jawed, “The hell do you mean?” “I mean, we all are getting new assignments with different commanders for our safety and for the sake of Cybertron.” Sighing slowly, Sunstreaker let go of Hound, “Is this the cause of the overuse or cause of me being caught?” Hound shook his head, “It’s neither, we need to be at our best and the five of us fighting together is not it.” “That’s such bullshit, you’re having us separated because of Sunny.” Sideswipe moves over and shoves Hound, who shoves his back, “This isn’t about that! This is about keeping all of us alive and from killing each other, damnit!” Hound almost tore off his helmet just to throw it.

Instead he kicked one of their empty bowls across the room before turning on Sideswipe, “We aren’t made for following one pilot's orders and I sure as hell wasn’t made to be a commander 24/7, yet that is where we were currently standing.” He spreads his arms wide, “It’s only for three months, to see which works better. Sides, you and Sunny won’t be far from each other, your commanders are deployed together.” He holds up a hand, turning, “Jazz, you will be returning to your previous post under Prowl, it was recommended.” Jazz glanced back to Prowl with a smirk, “I’m sure it was.” Hound’s face almost burned, that look was certainly more than just a friendly one before he turned to Breakdown, “You’re still on rest for two weeks, but once that’s done, you will be under Megatron’s command with me, technically but we won’t be stationed together.” The twins were both glaring and Breakdown nodded a bit, Jazz almost looked lost in thought, “It’s only three months. If this doesn’t work out then we return to what we’ve been doing.” Sideswipe scoffs, “Oh yeah, like that’s been so great. Bluestreak trying to kill Sunny, you suffering from overuse, and Breakdown down and out with a concussion. Face it, you're in over your head.” Hound looked at him, clenching his jaw before looking at Sunstreaker, “You will be working under Ironhide with Bluestreak and a few people from the Primesgaurd. I hope while you’re there you learn to be more intelligent than your brother.” Sunstreaker winced as Sideswipe turned to gawk at Hound and started towards him, “Hound,” “Sideswipe, you’ll be working under Elita-One, it’s about time you came to understand the chain of command cause this shit ain’t cute.” He steps forward, pointing at him, “If this doesn’t cool your head, then you’ll be grounded and your mech will join the Odyssey in storage. Am I clear?” Sides mouth open and closed silent before Hound nodded and turned away, heading for the ladder, “I am going to take the rest of the day off to get rest, I suggest you all do the same, overuse is coming for us all and it’s coming fast.” He slides down the ladder easily.

—

“What the hell did I do to deserve that?” Sideswipe was pouting, scowling towards Hound’s mech which had been closed off for hours now. Jazz had left to go into Iacon with Bluestreak and Prowl, Breakdown had returned to rest as well, leaving the twins sat together on the window sill, staring out at the shining city, “I don’t know Sides, what could you have done to deserve that? Be serious, you shoved and insulted our commander.” Sunstreaker sighed, eating a protein bar and frowning down at it, “Of course he’s not going to put a lot of trust into you now.” Sideswipe scoffed and went back to repainting his assistance suit, “Who asked you?” Sunstreaker gave him a look and leaned back, “I don’t know and honestly, you’re being a bit of a dick right now.” He moves over and starts down the ladder, “I’m going to get some rest, I’d suggest you do the same. It helps with the side effects of overuse.” “I’m not suffering from overuse. I’m not the old man.” Sunstreaker stared at Sideswipe, at his twin, “Sides, we all are showing symptoms, you might want to check your implants, your bleeding again.” His feet hit the floor and he starts walking towards the bedroom, “That and being a bigger asshole than after the Bermuda mission.” “Fuck you.” Shrugging slightly, Sunstreaker went into the bedroom to get some rest.

Sideswipe reached up and touched at his implants, which were sticky with fresh blood and he sighed deeply, heightening irritability and aggression, one of the many stages of overuse. It really was coming for them all and now they’d be spread thin at best, separated from each other. Sideswipe through the sealed paint can across the room. He needed a drink but the first batch wouldn’t be ready for ages. He swore and laid back, staring out at Iacon.

———

A/N

Wow, that took a while for me to actually be able to sit down and write this. I probably won’t post another part till the New Year but we will see.

I want to thank you all for all your support and love, it has meant a lot to me. I can’t believe that we’re 20 parts into this crazy journey and it’s only just starting.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU! 💜

#transformers #tf mecha universe #mech pilot jazz au #the arcturus missions #maccadam #hound #breakdown #sunstreaker #sideswipe #prowl #jazz #bluestreak

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 6 months ago

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 36

Hey guys! Been super busy with other stuff. Check out my Ao3 if u wanna see more dpxdc siren content!

also masterpost!

INTERNATIONAL OUTCRY AS AMERICAN AGENTS TEAR THROUGH PANAMA

GIW agents harass civilians and destroy property in pursuit of supposed siren supervillain Phantom, only for no trace of said villain to be found. Is this yet another sordid chapter in American interference on South American soil? Lois Lane reports.

That was a welcome sight to see in the morning. Jazz Fenton placed her phone face down, and rolled back into bed; it was a bad idea to look at screens for too long while concussed, as much as she wanted to dig into the article lambasting Amity’s least favourite government workers. A small weight lifted off her shoulders. For the moment, her brother and Damian were scot free. Her parents were still hard at work on repairs. They’d spent the whole night in despair along with Bruce Wayne after Skulker had escaped without telling them any info on the missing boys, then the next morning, boom! Back to work. Never let it be said that the Fentons gave up easily. The GIW seemed less likely to bounce back, if the backlash against them was any indication. And Skulker’s ship was at the bottom of the sea.

As for what Danny and Damian would do next, Jazz had no idea. They could be trekking through Brazil on foot, or planning to swim back up north to Amity for all she knew. All she could do was hope Danny got himself a phone soon to call her, and let her know they were alright. Speaking of which…

Jazz got up and moved to the side of her door, where the spare mattress was propped up. She dragged it over the door, sealing it shut. With her room once again soundproofed and secure, she went back to her bed, and tapped a group call contact on her phone. She had texted them the brief details last night, but was too busy comforting her parents to give them the full report.

It answered in two rings. Tucker spoke immediately. “What’s your status?”

Sam picked up right after. “Where are the boys?”

“Everything is fine, for now. They managed to escape Panama before the GIW could catch them. But Skulker got them soon after.”

“Shit. I never even knew! I wasn’t there to hack him. What happened?” Tucker asked in panic.

“Mom and Dad came back last night, told me and Bruce that ‘Phantom’ made off with his little green friend. So at least they’re safe.”

“So that means they’re safe, right?”

Jazz squeezed her hairband. “For the most part. There’s one issue, though. Mom and Bruce saw Danny running at the beach in Panama. They didn’t see him go into the water or anything.” She was always careful not to say anything that would connect Danny with Phantom, just in case there was still somehow someone listening. It was never ‘transform’, it was always ‘go in the water.’ It was never Danny and Damian swimming in the ocean, it was Phantom and his friend, or just ‘they.’ “They don’t suspect anything catastrophic yet, but the situation is sensitive.”

“Well fuck.” The sound of a fist on wood came through Sam’s end.

“Sam, are you training?” Tucker asked. Jazz internally questioned if there was a reason to his surprise.

“Just a bit. Need to be in tip top shape.” Another series of punches. “You got a problem with that, Tuck?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Jazz pursed her lips. “How are you guys feeling, outside of paranoid anxiety and crushing fear?”

“Like I want to cave someone’s face in right now.”

“I’ve got some good news!” Keyboard clacking followed his announcement, and a text from him appeared on their group chat. It was an internal order obviously gained via Tucker’s illicit means, directing operatives to pack up and hit the seas for Phantom. “The Gankers in Wetwipes are screwing off in the next couple weeks. That means less property damage. Woo!”

“But more people chasing Phantom, Tuck.” Sam let out a guttural growl as she kicked something, by the sound of it. “They’ll be licking their wounds for a while with his GTA stunt in Panama, but for how long?”

For how long indeed. If they were as determined as they ever were, probably not long at all. “What’s the status at Fentonworks?”

“All clear for now. I already gained access to the system aaages ago, back when we needed to disable the detection systems for Danny.” A few keys clicked in the background. “Still nothing. I have a program to alert me and Sam when a certain someone shows up.”

“And then what?”

“Hopefully, blast him to fucking bits with the house defenses.”

“There’s also plan B, Jazz, but we’ll save that for later,” Sam added. “How are you feeling?”

Jazz sighed. The last few days have been nothing but anxiety, uncertainty and stress. Slowly, she breathed in again, and her sigh became a calming exhale. “Honestly? Relieved. The future is uncertain, and people are naturally inclined to dislike uncertainty, but I have faith in Danny. He’s one of the strongest little brothers a woman could hope for.”

She just needed to have faith.

Damian chewed a piece of Sargassum. The stars coated the night sky once more in a mesmerising dome, while Danny laid beside him, fins flicking lazily, as he retold myths. Currently Danny was going over Herakles, who was brought to the teet of Hera to suckle, only for the baby Herakles to nibble too hard, causing the goddess’ milk to spill out into the stars, forming the Milky Way.

“Incidentally, galaxias literally means milky! Can you believe it?” Danny concluded.

The whale pod was fast asleep at this moment, floating near the surface of the ocean. Danny’s body was already mostly dried out, scales replaced by pink skin. The older boy tipped his foot into the water, which morphed it into a fin, before splashing the water onto Damian’s body.

As much as Damian wished to be able to continue swimming, he was still in recovery, and he and Danny had not finished gathering supplies yet. Instead, he laid his head on the mother whale’s body and on Danny’s, and listened to another story.

“This isn’t about any constellations, but here’s the hillaarrious misunderstanding for why some Greeks thought the god Pan was dead…”

Damian fell asleep to the rhythm in Danny’s chest.

He woke up feeling better than ever, and the whale calves seemed to feel the same. As soon as he rose, a group of them with Dorothea at the helm ambushed him. Dorothea bumped her nose onto him, and Damian instinctively grasped her fins to hold on, while she dashed away from her friends. Three calves followed Dorothea’s tail, while another two flanked her left side.

The two from the side dove for Damian, aiming to knock him off Dorothea’s back, but she swerved upward and dodged their advance. So the game was to claim Damian as their rider. He could get behind this. Dorothea’s friends approached from the rear. Damian secured his position atop her back, and scanned his surroundings, which were mostly featureless sands and dozens of whales. He clicked a command, then nudged her in the downwards direction. Almost by telepathy, Dorothea angled downwards underneath the belly of one of the adult pod members. The three chasers followed closely.

“Giddy up, Dorothy! We can still outswim them!” He called out to his friend. However, his glee was cut short by the reappearance of the two flankers. One seemed like a young male, with three spots on his head. Damian dubbed him Cerberus. The other had a white patch on its fin. Damian called it Todd.

Cerberus went low, while Todd went high, brushing against the underbelly of the adult they were swimming under. With Damian holding on tight, Dorothy dashed forward. She and Damian aimed to swim up the side of the adult and lose their tails (curse you Richard and your infectious disease). However, the three chasers from the back had returned. A smaller runt rammed Damian by the side. It was not painful, just startling. Damian yelped at his new captor and the current winner. “Be careful, you dolt! And start swimming!”

Runt clicked an answer back, and the chase was on. Damian took the helm at Runt’s back, and chirped a challenge back to the other calves, who crooned back with renewed vigour. Runt wasn’t as big or strong as her friends, but she was small, and that made her a more difficult target, as well as granting her greater nimbleness in the water. Try as her pod mates might, they were unable to catch her. Runt twisted and zig-zagged through the water, and around the bodies of the adults. Dorothea managed to glance by Damian’s sail, but she had aimed too high and left Damian firmly seated on his current noble steed.

As enemy forces closed in on them, he had to wonder what the victory condition had to be for this game, and if there weren’t, how he could make one decisively. His gaze turned upward.

“We need altitude, Runt. On the double!” He commanded. Damian ducked under another capture attempt by Cerberus, then jerked Runt to the side as Todd dove for another attempt. Runt sped toward the surface with accelerating pace amidst the growing resistance. In a rush of motion, the pair broke the surface and launched into the air, almost six whole feet up. Runt sang a triumphant tune. She blasted water out of her blowhole, which happened to be right underneath Damian’s face, but Damian couldn’t help but laugh even as he was pelted by high-pressure water. His stomach lurched and his heart jittered with the thrill of free-fall, celebrated with a pump of the fist.

He and Runt plummeted back to the deep blue sea with a magnificent splash, right before the whale calves surrounded them with playful nuzzles.

A click interrupted their celebration. Behind the shifting bodies of the whale calves, a grinning Danny floated, camera in hand. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Damian glared with dignity. He did not pout. “I was getting in my recommended hours of physical therapy. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. And it wasn’t just because you wanted to play with the whales again?”

“It was training.” Damian put his hands to his hips. “I am learning how to be a whale whisperer and trainer, for any future encounters where that skillset might be useful.”

“Well…” Danny rolled his shoulders back and grinned. “Is the budding whale trainer ready for a lunch break?” The older boy offered a helping of brown kelp. “Today our chef has prepared a special three-course dinner comprising of kelp, kelp, and a mystery desert for later!”

“It is kelp, is it not?”

“You betcha!”

Within the clean white walls of a private jet, a man picks up a glass of champagne. Poor Jasmine, all alone in Fentonworks, her parents having gone off gallivanting across the waves once more. Poor Jasmine indeed. Well, having set affairs in order back at home, Vlad Masters was finally coming to check in on his dear, dear goddaughter.

“How long until we reach Amity, pilot?”

“Just another hour, sir. Hang in tight.”

“Excellent.”

And if he completed a few errands around Amity Park in the meantime, who could blame him?

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst

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