Mermaid romance (one-on-one//closed)

"Wonderful." Jackson sighed softly, looking across to the shore line where Jenny had managed to get a wheelchair to the entrance of the cave system, "Hold on." He bent down, hooking one arm around Carter's back and another under his tail, picking him up bridal style with a grunt.

Carter tightly put his arms around Jackson’s neck, knowing that being sore from being dropped would A, hurt very much, and B, only slow him down. He remembered when he had picked up Arria when they were on land, when they ran from the cops for a little bit. He desperately wished Arria was here now. I’m coming for him, I will find him one day, Carter vowed to himself, holding that promise close to his heart. He’d wait to find Arria even if it took the rest of his life.

(Okay, so question. Do we want to time skip now, or in a little while? Your choice)

(I'd be good with a time skip rn :)

(Okay, this'll be a long one so gimme a min)

Three years later

Technically it was three years, four months and seventeen days since the Incident. Arria had counted each and every single day he was trapped in the sticking tank Maria had put him in. Well, the third since he'd smashed through the first two before Maria had decide to make the glass a meter thick.
The past three years Arria had dubbed the worst of his life. Moving from city to city, country to country. Where ever Maria decided he needed to be 'shown off' to the rich, or to just perform to people. For the first few months he'd tried to fight back, tried to find some way out. But without his potions he couldn't give himself legs to leave. And every time he did something wrong he was punished for it, accumulating an array of scares, cuts and bruises along his torso, back and arms. Then after a year he gave up and out up with it.
He'd matured and grown a lot in the three years. Muscles more sharper and more defined, scales a darker purple then they used to be, hair slightly longer and floofy. He frowned more, barely smiled. He'd locked away all good emotion apart from anger, really.
He'd prayed that Carter would would come find him. hoped and wished he'd just show up but he never did. And by two years he'd nearly given up entirely. A small part of him still wished he was coming, but majority of him new he wasn't going to come, not after three years.

During this time, Riot had been working hard on tracking Maria and Arria. But whenever they thought they got close, got a lead or attended one of the shows, they were gone before they even had a chance to confront them. Jackson new it was probably a hopeless task, and honestly he was ready to tell Carter they should put their efforts elsewhere, focus on other tasks, other criminals.
The leader of the group admitted to himself a while back that he had some feelings for Carter, and had told him about it. There was a connection, he could feel it and it grew every day. But with the task of finding Arria they never made anything official. Jackson was contemplating giving up on the whole Arria thing just so he could be with Carter. But he hadn't, not yet.

Carter had changed a lot the past three years. Firstly, the simple physical changes. He’d grown out his hair to about the middle of his upper arm, and kept it in a braid or bun often. Carter was a bit thinner around the waist as his eating habits had changed drastically, but he worked out a little bit more so his muscles were a bit more prominent. He’d completely given up on surfing, or even really being by the water that much unless it was work related. At first, it hurt too much. Now… the pain had dulled, but it still felt like there was a scar there.
Carter had probably spent the first year and a half longing for Arria. Trying to find him, searching on and on and on. Now, Carter realized how foolish he’d been. There wasn’t much hope left. The first show they’d went to, when they’re gotten so close to Arria… and failed. Carter had gone home crying that night, he must have cried into Jackson’s shoulder for hours. He wished he would’ve learned after that first night, but he had still believed he’d find Arria even after that. It took a couple nights to come home crying for him to realize how optimistic he’d been. How foolish he’d been.
Carter had learned. Mentally, Carter had given up. He believed that this had turned into a lost cause. The only reason he hadn’t completely given up yet was because of that promise he’d made to himself. Though he didn’t believe his efforts would amount to anything, he still went after Maria. The difference, now, was that his mind was no longer on Arria or Maria when going to the shows, it was on his future. Particularly, it was on Jackson, as it was tonight.
Carter’s hand found Jackson’s and he side stepped closer to the other male. “See anything interesting yet?” He asked softly as his eyes traced over one of Maria’s commodities sitting on a table underneath a glass case for display. Maria didn’t put her special items out for anyone’s eyes, one of the reasons they had never found Arria. Sometimes she had special guards, sometimes she didn’t even bring out the particularly valuable things until the end of the night. Tonight, Carter was suspicious of the backroom where the fancier, richer people slipping into from time to time after paying the guard off.

Jackson gave Carter's hand a small squeeze, looking at him for a moment before back to the glass cage, "The back room, if we get in there… well, he might be in there. We just need to find a way in." These missions were honestly starting to feel like a waste of time, not when Jackson knew he could tell Carter that there was no hope, when they could start a new life together, without the merman, "Jenny might be able to get us in. But there's no word from her yet." He looked over to the door as another business man slipped the guard some cash and headed inside the room.

On the other side, Arria swam idly in his tank. It was tall, extremely so. The glass extended higher even when the water finished so Arria couldn't jump out. It was filled with different sea plants and a couple fish but not many. Along the merman's arms were large, purple and black bruises that covered his entire upper arm on both sides, caused by Arria slamming his entire body weight into the side of it in an attempt to break the tank. Even if the glass broke he couldn't escape, but dying would be better then another one of these events in his eyes.
His eyes narrowed on the man that entered the room, jaw tightening even more then it already was. Then, he smirked, slightly at least. He swam as fast as he could to the top of the tank, jumping out of the water and arching his back into a flip. The people in the room awed as he dove back down… straight into the glass. People jumped back, not expecting the merman to do such a thing, causing a commotion in the room as he did it again, and again, and again, even though his arms protested, causing a bigger commotion. He found it quite amusing, since this was the only entertainment he would ever get.

“Yeah… hopefully…” Carter said softly, though he sounded like a broken record to himself. Carter closed his eyes and moved closer to Jackson, wrapping his arms around the male and rested his head on his shoulder. Carter wasn’t normally this affectionate out in public with Jackson, but he was tired, oh so tired, of all of this. He needed a break, and right now, he could draw comfort from Jackson. It was expected that he’d take said comfort. Honestly, Carter would be okay with going home right now and giving up on trying to get in the backroom. Arria probably wasn’t even in the building.

Jackson was about to wrap his arms around Carter when he saw Jenny. Saw her indicate when the guard slipped into the backroom. And saw he follow him inside, putting a small stopper into the door so it wouldn't close properly. Jackson was stuck. Stuck between taking Carter home and letting him give up so they could be happy, or telling him that the door was open, "Carter… the door…" He mumbled eventually after a minute of contemplating it, though he didn't agree with his own choice.

Carter picked his head up, brushing his braid back as he took note of the stopper. He knew he should be jumping at this, to immediately want to go back there, but… he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to keep chasing after a fantasy that would never come true. Carter looked his Jackson, taking a deep breath before mumbling softly, “Before we go in to investigate… would you want to… do you want to…” Carter leaned in, pure exhaustion from trying so, so hard from the past couple years showing in his eyes before saying, “… do you want to kiss me?” Just one simple kiss before they had to go investigate a fruitless room.

Jackson felt his breath hitch in this throat. He shouldn't, in case Arria was back there but, "Yes." He breathed, placing a light, soft kiss onto Carter's lips. It was quick, not like the kisses Carter and Arria used to share. He pulled back, "One last investigation." He mumbled, kisses Carter's forehead before leading him into the backroom.

Arria had slammed himself into the glass multiple more times. People moving backwards in case he broke the glass. He knew he wouldn't, but it was fun seeing them scared. Scared like he had been. But the fear had been replaced by anger, bitterness and pure hatred. The guard came rushing in, stopping in front of the take and telling him to stop, just as Jackson and Carter walked into the room.
Arria didn't even noticed, to focused on taunting the guard as he swam up, arched and slammed into the glass again, making the bruises on his arms deeper, "Come on! Punish me again you idiot! Or are you too afraid to do it in front of all these people? Come on, hurt me." He called out.

Carter soaked in the quick kiss, craving the comfort more than anything. Craving any kind of comfort, really. He was sick of droning on with this hopeless lifestyle. “One last investigation,” Carter repeated softly, an agreement. This would be the end of the hopelessness, the empty rooms, the failed missions. Carter was ready to… to move on. Carter walked in, staying close to Jackson. He was ready to be done, to go home after they’ve looked at the room.
But then everything changed when he saw that glass tank. When he took a second to recognize who was in it. A tiny, strangled sound came up from his throat, so quiet that only Jackson could hear. That was Arria. Arria. Carter’s legs moved without command as he stumbled into action, leaving Jackson’s side as he went to the front of the tank—pushing passed the guards without much care for consequences, and he pressed his hand to the sides of the tank and just looked in disbelief. “A-Arria?” A whisper so quiet, Carter almost didn’t believe it came from himself.

Arria looked from the guard to Carter. Carter. Most of the anger faded from his face as he sunk down to Carter's level, though a thread of it was still, "How did…?" He shook his head and dug his palms into his eyes. Not crying, he couldn't cry, just checking to see if this was all an illusion, "No. No you can't…" He swallowed. He hadn't felt another emotion is so, so long. And yet it was real. He was standing in front of the tank, in person. This was a dream, yet it felt real. Yet the pain in his arms from banging into the glass was real and the pain in his heart and chest were real. Three fucking years. Three years of being tortured, shown off and isolated from the rest of the world and now he decided to show up? Now he decided to put a plan in motion that could save him? And… Arria finally noticed Jackson in the back of the room, looking at Carter with a look that Arria used to give him. What was left if his heart broke into even smaller pieces. He could recognise that look anywhere. His jaw tightened, fists clenching as a way to keep his anger in check. Under difference circumstances it was a look that could make anyone melt but not now. He should have known it was too good to be true and was honestly glad that Maria had taken the ring Carter had given him. Because right now he wanted to throw it in Carter's face and tell him to fuck off.

Carter still stared, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Arria was right here in front of him, alive and real. All these years of searching and Carter finally found him. There was so many scars and bruises, he looked so different but he was real. Arria was right here, and Carter was right here, they were were right here. They were together. Carter stared for another moment before he fumbled to get his hidden dagger that was strapped to his calf. He yanked it out, and didn’t hesitate as he stabbed it into the glass—not cared what kind of damage the knife took, he just needed it to break. He just needed to get Arria out, no matter how messy it got. Deep down, Carter knew he wouldn’t be able to handle getting this close and failing.

The glass cracked and Arria swam back slightly before pushing against the crack, holding to help at least a little. For once, his efforts did, as the crack expanded and spread. He hissed, bruises stinging but he didn’t stop. A bad idea, it was a bad idea and he knew it. All this water and all these people. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t spend another minute in this tank, he’d die before that even happened. Even if Maria or someone stopped them on the way out he would not go back in that tank. It took a couple more attempts of stabbing and pushing before the glass broke, sending streams of water flooding the room. And Arria was hurled right out of that broken tank and straight at Carter.

Carter stumbled back a little as the water hit him, but he was fueled by pure adrenaline at this point. He caught Arria, but just barely as he felt a couple glass shard lodge into his forearm. He stumbled backwards, holding Arria to his chest as he shouted, “Jackson!” Carter stumbled away from the tank, towards the exit and towards Jackson. He clothes were soaked, and he kept nearly tripping as he dragged Arria, but he didn’t let himself look back. He didn’t let himself stop to see where the guards were, to look for danger. Carter couldn’t afford to stop now, he just needed to get to Jackson, to get out.

Jackson looked over, worry lining his features as he noticed the glass in Carter's arm as he ran over to them both, "Give me Arria! You can't carry him with the glass in your arm babe." He didn't even realise the slip up of the pet name, not in the commotion of everything. Arria noticed, didn't mention it but heard it, holding onto Carter just a little tighter. Guards were starting to fill the room, trying to escort people out and also try and get to the trio, although Jenny and a few others were holding them off.

Carter didn’t protest, he passed Arria over to Jackson. He looked down at his arm, long glass shards jutting out and blood beginning to drip down his arm. Carter didn’t let himself dwell on it—he’d need stitches, but they could sow it up when they got home. Carter still had his knife out, but the edge had gotten chipped from the glass. It’d still be enough to defend himself and Jackson and Arria. He heard a familiar woman’s voice -Maria- shriek from across the room, but didn’t dare look back as he sprinted for the exit.

Jackson followed, carrying Arria bridal style as he ran after Carter. They just had to get out, get to the boat and get back to the base and everything would be okay. Well, hopefully. Would Carter leave with Arria or stay with him? He shook his head, getting rid of the distracting thought and focused back on running. They weaved through the different displays and people, the entrance of the door so close. The three burst through, shouting and gun shots could only just be heard from inside the building now, and Jenny and few others came rushing out towards them, and the boat.

Carter felt the adrenaline begin to wear off as he ran, stumbling a little because of his wet clothing getting caught, and he tumbled into the boat as soon as he got there. He scrambled to get the motor started, feeling like every action was too slow. He could hardly focus on one thing at a time, there was too much stuff going on in his head. Arria. Arria was here, they were saving Arria. Finally.

Jackson ran onto the boat, practically throwing Arria onto the decking before rushing to Carter's side to help get the boat started. Arria hissed slightly, landing right on his bruises. He glared at the back of Jackson's head before slowly shifting himself to the side of the boat, looking over the edge at the water, at the ocean. The boat rumbled as Jackson managed to get it into gear, the rest of the team on the boat as they sped off. Arria didn't move, still looking over the edge of the boat.

Carter let Jackson take over, grateful for the other man. He sunk down onto the floor of the boat, all he energy sapped. Gosh, his arm hurt. He didn’t notice it until now. Carter slowly opened his eyes, looking at all the blood covering his forearm. Maybe Jackson could help him sow it when things settled down. Carter slowly turned his head to Arria. “Hey,” He mumbled, exhaustion clear in his voice and in his eyes.

Arria swallowed, "Hi," He said quietly. He didn't look over to Carter, eyes trained on the water. His heart felt heavy, his mind, too. He just wanted to go home. Go anywhere. He just wanted to get away. Away from whoever this Jackson guy was, "How are you?" He lifted his gaze, turning to Carter. He looked empty. No exhaustion, no anger, no happiness. Just empty, and he felt it.

Carter took a deep breath, but his chest felt tight. “I’ve been… okay,” He mumbled softly, reaching up back behind his head to take out his hair tie and to let his braid come undone. “It’s been… it’s been a long time. You look different,” Carter said softly, clearing his throat and busying himself by looking down at his bloody arm. He’d rather feel sick by looking at his blood-covered arm than look at Arria and feeling the tightness in his chest.

Arria snorted, "It's been three years," He deadpanned, "Of course I look different," He shook his head a little, hair falling in front of his face, "And so do you…" He wanted to jump over the side of the boat, "You should get your boyfriend to look at your arm. Looks pretty bad." Saying it out load made everything worse, and he subconsciously went to fiddle with where the ring used to be, only finding nothing there.

Carter tensed up ever so slightly at the tone, and when Arria finished… “I’m not- he’s not- we’re not- we’re not that,” He stuttered, shaking his head. Being honest… Carter didn’t know what he and Jackson were. He didn’t know what he and Arria were anymore either. Carter didn’t know what anything was anymore, it was like the world had shattered and rebuilt itself, but none of the pieces were where they were supposed to be.

Arria rolled his eyes, "Oh I'm sorry, I just assumed since he called you babe you were together." He couldn't look at Carter. There was something going, he could tell, he wasn't an idiot. He was so alone. He knew, physically, he wasn't. But Carter had moved on, or was in the process of moving on and Arria? He didn't have anyone anymore. He wanted everything to go back to the way it had been, but he knew it wouldn't.

Carter looked away as if he’d been physically hurt or slapped. Everything was so… so messed up. He didn’t know what to do. He glanced at Jackson, but didn’t dare look at Arria again. Carter didn’t have the energy to fight. All these years of searching, of sneaking into Maria’s events, of staying up late at night doing research to try to get a hint of Maria’s next move, of days were he just broke down from the hopelessness… all for what? For this? Carter expected to be happy, but he was the opposite. He felt more hopeless than he had when they hadn’t found Arria.

Arria clenched his fists, relaxing them a moment later. He looked back out over the water, contemplating jumping in and just swimming away. He couldn't do it. Couldn't stay here when Carter clearly didn't really want him anymore, when he had eyes on someone else. He was broken before but now he didn't even know if he could ever put the pieces back together again. He'd be better off dead at this point. Carter would be better off without him.