Chapter 9

Shawn had taken to rising just before dawn and settling into bed early, at least in comparison to his old schedule of bar hopping or writing until two or three in the morning and sleeping until noon. It was rather refreshing to be on what his father would call a 'normal' person's schedule. He found the shadows cast by the rising sun alluring and peaceful, allowing him to focus on his writing, no matter how frivolous it was--currently, it was focused on a mysterious hermit on a tropical island. Hmm, wonder where that idea came from?

After typing for almost an hour, Shawn put his laptop down to stretch and retrieve a second cup of coffee. As he turned to the patio door, movement in the water caught his attention. It was dim as the sun was just making its way over the top of the house, casting shadows on the waters still, but a splash caught his eye and he saw a figure rising out of the surf.

Damn, that sure as hell wasn't Martin, he noted, now that he'd had a second view of the man. In the early morning light, he could see the golden skin was smooth and lean, and definitely not bearded. The figure flung his head back sending a spray of water from his shoulder length tawny hair.

This must be the 'nephew' that his neighbor mentioned who visited occasionally. Must be more than just occasionally though, if Shawn had already seen him twice in the couple weeks he'd been here. And--well, hellooo... Well, hell, he certainly wasn't the 'boy' that Martin implied that he was, Shawn mused, as he watched the young man stride out of the waters, again as naked as the day he was born.

How shy can the guy be if he swims and walks the beach naked? Shawn closed his laptop and took it inside. Maybe it was time to see just how timid this nephew really was.

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Casey stared out over the vast ocean. It was early enough he didn't figure he'd have to worry about their neighbor catching him out here, nor Uncle Martin for that matter. The dark waters churning against the shoreline. A storm would be coming in later this afternoon. He shivered slightly as a breeze brushed over his bare, wet shoulders. He'd slipped on his khakis after his swim and had settled down to watch the sun's rays peek over vast expanse of ocean. From his perch on the rocks, he could vaguely see a fishing ship out on the horizon. He gulped back the lump in his throat at the thought of their huge nets, the press of the collar as he did so a constant reminder of his guilt.

Thomas was constantly on his mind lately, especially now that he was restricted from swimming whenever he wanted. It had been his usual escape from the pain of Thomas's death as well as his guilt. His heart ached as he stared out over the waters that he so loved. He could still feel the cool, briny water washing over him as he had glided through the waters from his early morning swim. The urge to head to deeper waters had nearly given him a headache as he fought to ignore it. He didn't get to do that much anymore, not unless Uncle Martin took him out on the boat.

He almost got up to head back into the surf again but refrained. The lure was too strong today, and he knew sticking to within a few yards of the shore would be near impossible if he went out again.

His hand fluttered to the band on his neck again, remembering the first time he'd breached the boundaries that Uncle Martin's collar gave him. The shock had been intense, jolting through him and leaving him breathless. He hated it, but he also knew it was necessary. The lure of the ocean depth was often too much, and when the moon was at its peak fullness it was even worse.

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"Casey! Don't get too far ahead of us!" Thomas's voice called out laughing.

They were behind him in the boat while Casey's sleek form was gliding nearly effortlessly through the darker waters of the Gulf of Mannar. They had already been diving for pearls, and Casey had found several good ones today that his uncles could sell when they went to market again. His uncles kept a very low profile, for him, Casey knew. So they offered their services as doctors to the local townsfolk, but that didn't bring in much money to support them. Diving for pearls did. Uncle Martin was careful when he went to sell them.

Casey paused and looked back at his uncles. Thomas was smiling broadly while Martin slowed the boat, his eyes casting around for trouble as he usually did. Martin was always the more serious one. And while Casey loved them both, he couldn't help but feel closer to Uncle Thomas. It was Thomas who often held and cuddled him through nightmares, who watched him when he couldn't resist the pull of a full moon, who taught him to read and write, and who often swam with him. Martin didn't care much for swimming in the ocean--he didn't like the saltiness of the waters.

Martin was also the one who meticulously kept records of his growth and changes. Because of his 'unique condition,' he said it was important to keep records, so they often drew blood and tested his endurance and such to see how he changed as he grew.

As the boat slowed to a stop, Casey watched Thomas slip on his dive mask and jump overboard. Casey was only fifteen, but in his mer form he was longer than Thomas. As he'd grown, he'd noticed that his tail seemed to be longer and sleeker than it had been when he first remembered coming to the island ten years ago. His younger body had been almost chunky compared to what it was growing into now. His hips and torso were lean and toned, his shoulders were just beginning to broaden.

Thomas surfaced near him with a splash, and Casey playfully splashed him back. Then he dove, flipping his tail with a slap on the water. Thomas had sputtered a bit before diving after him. Casey could dive farther than Thomas only because he could hold his breath longer, unless Thomas had his scuba tank.

Casey dove through a school of fish, laughing to himself as he scattered the slivery mob. This was a popular fishing area, especially at night so they didn't get to visit this area very often. It was worse around the full moon as the fishermen followed the fish's lure to the surface during this phase. It was why Thomas watched him so carefully during the full moon now, because he'd ventured too far in its allure and nearly been seen by a local fishing boat.

But Casey was interested in seeing the different fish further out from shore, so he'd managed to talk Thomas into convincing Martin that it would be okay, as long as it was during the day and off the moon cycle there probably wouldn't be any fishing boats out. And fortunately, there weren't.

Casey dove and circled the boat, popping up on the other side from where Martin was intently watching the waters for Thomas. He gave a little splash of the warm waters, startling his uncle who snapped around to him.

"Hey! You little brat!" he laughed, wiping fruitlessly at the water that had already soaked into his shirt and khaki shorts.

"A little water won't hurt you, you know," Casey teased.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, glancing over his shoulder. "Go check on your uncle. He's been down there for a bit."

"Probably chasing a sea turtle," Casey smiled, and Martin laughed as they both remembered the first time Thomas had encounter one and followed it forever.

Casey ducked under the water, his long tail fin swishing idly as he looked around, his sharp eyes accustomed to the salinity of the water. He saw that his uncle had dove a little deeper than he usually did and wondered what he'd found. As he swam closer, Casey noticed that his movements were rather erratic, like he was pulling on something.

He darted over, figuring he could help since he knew that Thomas would need to surface soon. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw that Thomas was pulling on his own foot--which was stuck in a discarded fishing net.

Eyes wide with fear, he immediately grabbed at the ropes, attempting to free Thomas's flailing panicking body from the confines of the underwater trap. It was harder with Thomas's body jerking in fear, but he managed to do it. As soon as Thomas was free, he grabbed his uncle's body and whisked him to the surface before he inhaled too much water.

With his strong tail, they broke the surface in seconds and for a moment Casey panicked that he was too late when Thomas lay heavily against him. But then Casey jerked him toward the boat, and he began coughing and sputtering up seawater.

"Thomas! What the hell happened?" Martin was yelling as Casey dragged the limp form of his uncle over to the boat.

"Caught... in a net..." Casey gasped as he pushed Thomas up toward Martin who leaned over to grab the limp form of his partner.

"Thomas, my god," Uncle Martin's voice was pitched with panic. "Thomas, babe, are you okay? Speak to me."

Casey was climbing on the boat, shifting within seconds. He knelt down next to where Martin had laid Thomas on his side while the man continued to hack up water. Thomas's gray hair was plastered to his pale face, but he slowly started to breathe more regularly.

"I knew we shouldn't have come out here," Martin was growling as he stroked his partner's face.

"I'm sorry," Casey said softly, tears mixing with the seawater dripping down his face.

"You should be!" Martin snapped angrily. "It's your fault. You insisted we come out here. He could have been killed!"

"I--"

"Marty," a raspy voice cut in, "it's not the boy's fault. I was stupid. I went farther down than I should have."

Martin's tears dripped onto his lover's wet face as he leaned over and pressed his forehead to Thomas's temple. "God, babe, I thought--"

"I'm fine. A little light headed and tired that's all," Thomas assured them.

Martin finally managed to turn to the controls of the boat, as Casey pulled a bottle of water from their cooler for Thomas to sip. Casey pulled his uncle up to rest against his chest, holding the older man carefully. He could barely get his own breathing and heart rate under control. He'd been so scared when he'd surfaced and Thomas didn't take a breath.

Thomas turned in his arms, his large hand brushing the side of Casey's face. "It's okay, Casey," he said smiling. "It's not your fault. It was mine. You saved me." Casey closed his eyes, as more tears slipped down his cheeks, and he felt his uncle's lips press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'm fine, Casey."

But he hadn't been fine.

Tears slipped down Casey's cheek. Five years ago, and he could still remember that day like it was yesterday. Thomas had insisted he was fine, just tired and needed to sleep. Uncle Martin had shuffled Thomas off to their bedroom, and Casey could see the lines of worry in Martin's face.

At dinner that night, Thomas hadn't eaten much, complaining that the seawater was still upsetting his stomach. When he stood up, he had wavered. Martin voiced his concern, but Thomas stubbornly waved him off, smiling at Casey and giving him a warm hug before heading back up to the bed.

He'd been woken by Uncle Martin's frantic screaming into a phone. He barely remembered Martin yelling at him to help him get Thomas into the SUV. They needed a hospital. Thomas was incoherent, his breathing was erratic, he was dizzy and his vision was blurred. Emergency services couldn't get out to them fast enough, so Martin was driving to try to meet them. Casey had Thomas's head cradled in his lap, his hands shaking as he brushed back gray strands of hair, his sobs nearly choking him as he stared down at the dying man in his arms. The only man who ever really cared for him.

He barely heard Martin rambling hysterically from the front seat, something about cerebral decompression sickness and that they never should have been out that far, that he should never have agreed to it. That it was Casey's fault his love was dying.

Thomas's trembling hand lifted to cup Casey's jaw, gently wiping at the tears. The brown eyes were filled with sadness, and Casey knew that Thomas was trying to say good-bye.

"Case," the soft voice whispered, causing Casey to break down even more. "Know that I love you. Will always love you."

"I love you too, Uncle Thomas," Casey choked, "Please don't leave me. Please...I'm so sorry--"

"Shh, Casey, you're only a boy. You are not to blame, sweetheart," Thomas whispered, his eyes unfocused, tears leaking down his temples. His breath hitched, and Casey tightened his grip. Thomas smoothed back the sandy strands of Casey's hair. "Be good. You are special. Let Martin take care of you, keep you safe. I know he's not as... affectionate, but he still loves you."

All Casey could do was nod through his tears, words wouldn't come, his heart was breaking as he could see the light fading in his uncle's eyes. Thomas's hand dropped from his cheek heavily, and Casey's heart caught in his throat as he heard his uncle take a rattling breath before his eyes rolled back.

"NO!" he screamed, gripping the man fiercely. "Uncle Thomas! NO!"

He felt the SUV swerve sharply and stop suddenly. Martin was shoving him out of the way, screaming and wailing as he gripped Thomas's limp body to his chest.

Casey never forgot that night. The night he lost the only person who had ever loved him. His gaze focused inward and unseeing as tears slipped down his cheeks as they always did when he thought of that night. He wasn't even aware that the sun had totally risen and he was now sitting in the shadow cast by his home.

"Hey."

Casey jerked violently at the sound of another's voice, nearly falling off his rock.

"Oh, shit!" the voiced exclaimed, coming closer as Casey caught himself with his hands. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

Stumbling briefly to regain his balance, Casey manage to right himself in time to see the dark haired man he'd been watching for the last couple weeks looking at him in panic.

"I'm--I'm okay," Casey stammered, running a nervous hand through his damp locks. Shit, Martin was going to kill him. How the hell had the guy managed to get so close to him without Casey noticing? What the hell was he, a ninja or something?

"Good."

Damn his smile was stunning. Casey glanced uneasily away, wondering if he could make his escape before Martin could catch him as well.

"I'm Shawn," the man greeted, extending a strong hand out. "Shawn Brockton."

Casey eyed the hand warily but decided it was too late to make a graceful retreat without being rude. Up close, he realized that the man wasn't as big as he'd thought, still bigger than Casey but not by much. He was maybe only two or three inches taller, definitely broader in the chest and hips compared to Casey's leaner form, but certainly not as intimidating as he'd imagined from a distance.

"Casey," he finally returned the greeting, taking the man's hand firmly.

"It's nice to meet you, Casey."

He was rewarded with another brilliant smile that had him nearly forgetting that he shouldn't even be here. He was so screwed.