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#sacrificed my bootlaces
ego-sum-arbor · 9 months
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Project emergency plant hoist a so far a success
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queenclaudiabrown · 2 years
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Ocean Eyes | XII: The Fall of Cetus
Chapter content warnings: angst, violence, Helen, Leek, Caroline, fire, whump, gun stuff (idk if that’s a trigger) and gun violence, death/sort of murder (various methods including ones discussed in the previous chapter), vague mentions of vomit but no one actually throws up, discussion of concussions and infections, gore, implications and discussion of death, torture, stuff like that.
Word count: 9,801
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     Doctor Sarah Page hated waiting.
     In her experience, very little good ever came out of long, tense waits.  When she was confident of her presentation or interview or whatever matter she was waiting for a verdict on, it wasn’t so bad, and fairly often in those circumstances she had a good result.
     But she was not confident now.
     She hadn’t even done anything to be confident in.  Instead, she was waiting outside a London warehouse, the noise of the river and the city around them near deafening as she and Becker, Emily, and Claudia waited for a merman to appear.
     Stephen had sacrificed himself to Helen Ambrose again for Nick.  Eight years after the horrific ordeal he’d endured on his friend’s behalf- eight years of suffering in silence, keeping his bitter secret for Nick’s peace of mind, and just days after the revelations of the misery that they had both weathered and worn at that monster Helen Ambrose’s hands- and now he was back in the jaws of the wolf, in the serpent’s grasp, in the claws of the monster.
     And it had been twenty minutes since Stephen had submitted himself to an ostensibly far worse fate than previously experienced for Nick.  Yet the blond merman had not appeared.  Becker had even left the girls together (armed, of course) and gone to check around the area to see if Nick had come out a different part of the building.  But there was no sign.
     Claudia tapped her foot impatiently.  “How long’s it been, Emily?”
     Her cousin consulted her watch.  “Twenty minutes.”  She announced quietly.
     “That’s it, I’m going in.”  Claudia immediately said.  She put her hair up into a ponytail and buttoned her coat snugly, checking her bootlaces were knotted and tucked and tightening the strap of her messenger bag, the body of which she slid onto her lower back.  She crouched in front of the vent and took a fortifying deep breath before ducking her head and going in.
     “Claudia!”  Becker hissed.  He squatted down and reached out, catching at her ankle but missing.  “Claudia!”
     “I’m going, Becker, and I’m getting out your brother when I get my sister.”  She whispered back sharply, echoing back at her cousin.
     Becker let out a litany of swears under his breath.  “Fine, dдɱи¡t, I’m coming.”
     He crawled in after her, and Sarah zipped her jacket before quickly joining them.  Emily took up their tail, leaving the grate partly back in place behind her.
     They emerged in an empty, dark hallway, with no visible trace of life.   The women all immediately began moving in different directions, but Becker quickly reached out and stopped them.  “Look.”  He said, pointing at a security camera whose field of ‘vision’ they had nearly stepped into.
     Sarah hesitated only briefly before shrugging off her jacket.  “Could we cover it with this?”  She asked.
     Becker took it and considered.  “Yeah, I think so.  Emily, you have your lockpick kit?”
     The brunette produced it from a jacket pocket, and after a few minutes the three women managed to hoist and hold Becker up so that he could use the thin metal tool to interfere with the camera.  “Now!”  He ordered, and Sarah tossed her jacket up with her free hand.  By some awesome stroke of luck, it successfully caught on the camera and stayed in place.
     “Yes!”  She cheered.  The cousin women immediately shifted to let Becker get down, Sarah helping them.
     Their presence temporarily masked, the four crept down the hallway, following Stephen’s trail of ‘breadcrumbs’ but keeping their eyes open for signs of life- friendly or otherwise.  On and on they went, through the labyrinthine facility.  It wasn’t even that big, but the seriousness and urgency of their mission made every moment feel like a century, every millimeter of corridor seem to stretch as long as a kilometer, every whisper-quiet noise sound as loud as an explosion.
     Claudia was in the lead, cocked pistol in hand, Rachel’s instructions and Kat’s borderline pyromaniac advice ringing in her mind, mingled with Nick’s assurance of a quick return, that he would be back with their family soon, and Stephen’s ostensibly misplaced confidence in Helen’s integrity with the deal he was making, that he could successfully swap their places.  She could still taste the sea from Nick’s lips from their farewell kiss, still see Stephen’s pained but determined eyes before he crawled into the vent.
     Sarah was a step behind her, armed with a rake handle that had no head, gripped firmly in a ready-to-fight hold in both hands.  She should never have let Stephen go in alone.  She should’ve gone in with him, waited out of sight to ensure the exchange went smoothly and receive Nick and guide him back to the others.  Instead she’d let Stephen go in on his own, facing his demons (in more than one sense) unsupported.
     Emily was behind them, a pistol clasped in her hands, finger resting on the trigger guard.  Becker had her previous role of watching their six, walking backwards with a rifle against his chest held in place by a sling and a pistol in his hand.  He could feel Emily’s chocolate curls bouncing with her stride and brushing against the back of his head and neck.  He trusted in her abilities and level head to protect the inexperienced and emotionally-driven Claudia and Sarah if he couldn’t react in time.
     They rounded a corner into a hallway, and were met with the sight of a tactically-clad man sporting at least one firearm standing in a seemingly random spot.  Claudia and Sarah, in the lead, gasped and froze, alerting him to their presence.  He immediately raised his rifle, stepping out into the hall farther.
     “$h¡t!”  Claudia cursed, stumbling backward into Sarah (the pole, more accurately), completely floundering before she remembered the weighty firearm in her grasp.
     Emily responded to the threat before Becker could get around the domino-effect of stopped women or Claudia could shoot.  The brunette sidestepped her cousin and advanced two quick steps as she lifted the handgun, finger slipping backward into place.  She squeezed off a quick shot, nailing the guard above his heart.  The impact took him to the ground, and Emily wasted no time marching up to him.  The bullet had struck him in the collarbone, shattering the clavicle and leaving blood oozing out of the hole.  He was fumbling on his uninjured side for a sidearm, sealing his fate.  Her jaw set and she pulled the trigger again, killing him with a headshot.
     The brief adrenaline rush that had flowed over her in a protective urge to defend her cousin(s) and friend drained away as quickly as it had come, leaving behind the shock and gut-wrenching realization that she had just taken a life.
     “Emily?  Emily!”
     Becker’s voice broke her out of her dazed state, and she snapped back into focus.  His eyes were soft and understanding, and the hand on her arm was gentle and reassuring, but his voice was urgent.  “It’s okay, you did good.  Look, he was guarding something.”
     The quartet’s collective gaze shifted to a door that the man had been standing in front of.  Sarah swiped the keys off his belt and offered them to Claudia.  She stepped up to the door and chose a key to try in the lock, but her hands were shaking too anxiously and she couldn’t get they key into it.
     “Let me.”  Becker said, interfering gently.  Hands nearly as stead as a surgeon’s, he went through each key until he found one that clicked the padlock open.  He unhooked the shank out of the links and tore the chain away, swinging the door open.
     Inside were Jenny, Connor, Patrick, and Charlotte.
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     In the tank room, cousins bobbed and floated in their tiny, cramped tanks filled with staling seawater.
     The tanks were ten feet high, five feet deep, and five feet wide- barely enough room for either Atlantean to fit.  The tanks were airtight and watertight, cutting them off from the air that their still-operating human lungs craved.
     “What will they do with the others?”  Abby asked, breaking the silence.
     “I don’t know.”  Nick admitted.  “Maybe they’ll keep them as leverage.  Maybe they’ll try to negotiate- trade the humans to keep us.”
     ‘Maybe they’ll kill them.’ went unsaid.
     “If she’s hurt Stephen…” the mermaid began again, a little more quietly out of hesitation.  “…I’ll kill her.”
     “You can have your turn after Sarah and I.”  Her cousin returned darkly.
     The tank room descended once more into silence.
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     Becker, Claudia, Emily, and Sarah surged into the cell- a disgusting and dingy concrete room- and collided with the prisoners in desperately relieved embraces.  Patrick was only afforded a single quick squeeze from Emily before she joined Sarah at Charlotte’s side.
      Claudia and Jenny had to force themselves to detach from each other, only driven by the danger they were still in.  “I thought I’d lost you.”  The auburn-haired twin admitted.
     “You’ll never lose me.”  Jenny responded firmly.  “I knew you’d find a way to get us back.”
     “Have you seen Stephen or Nick?”  Claudia queried.
      “Nick, yes.  He and Abby are in these…tanks in another room.  Claud, they took Danny away to a lab.”  She reported frantically.
     “We’ll get him back.  I won’t leave without him, okay?  Promise.”
     Jenny nodded, ever so slightly comforted by her sister’s vow.  “Thanks.  And I haven’t seen Stephen.  Why?”
     “He came with us- technically, we came with him.  Helen told him to- to give himself over in exchange for Nick.”  Claudia revealed, sickened again at the reminder.
     Jenny made a face.  “Evil, disgusting b¡tch.  She can rot in hell.  But if you haven’t seen Nick, what does that mean?”
     Claudia let out a deep sigh.  “We waited twenty minutes before coming in.  It’s probably been close to forty by now.  I’m guessing Helen stabbed him in the back and decided to keep them both prisoner.”  She handed Jenny her pistol, taking another for herself out of her coat pocket.  “Here.  I called Kat and Rachel.  Kat gave me some information on this place and Rachel gave me the cliffnotes version of how to shoot.  Both want Helen dead.”
     The darker-haired twin chuckled.  “That makes at least three of us.  I think I remember the way to the tank room, where Nick and Abby are.”
     Claudia nodded.  “Good.”    
     Connor thought he was going to pass out with how tight Becker was hugging him.  “Becks- need to breathe, Becks.”
     Becker reluctantly loosened his grip.  “I thought I’d lost you.  It was that bloody yacht trip all over again.  You were gone and I couldn’t find you.”
     “It’s okay.”  His elder brother consoled.  “You found me now.  Is everyone okay?  Did you find Abby?”
     “We haven’t found her yet, but Claudia and Emily and Sarah and I are alright.  Stephen came back and Helen told him to turn himself over in exchange for Nick, but there’s been no sign of anyone.  Connor…” Becker hesitated.  “…there’s something I’ve gotta tell you about Caroline.”
      “What?  That she never loved me, never cared about me?  That that sneaky little arsehole Leek paid her to be with me?  That she’s just a cold-blooded psychopath who’s all too happy to help him and Helen carry out whatever evil villain plans they’ve got?  Believe me, I already know.  She put a gun to my head, Becker.”
     Becker growled.  “Ooh, that b¡tch is dead.”
     “I’m sorry I didn’t listen when everyone told me there was something off about her.”  Connor apologized.  “I should’ve listened.  I should’ve known better.”
     “It’s alright.”  His younger brother assured him.  “We’re not angry, Connor.  It doesn’t matter now anyway.”
     Sarah and Emily knelt either side of Charlotte Cameron, Patrick having scuttled backward a bit toward her head to give them space.  She looked deathly ill, with labored breathing and almost sallow skin.  “You came for us.”  She murmured.
     “Always.”  Emily replied, brushing a curly brunette lock out of her friend’s face.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t come sooner.”
     Charlotte managed a weak smile, which quickly contorted into an expression of pain.  Grimacing, she coughed, a pained and unhealthy wheezing sound.
    “What’s wrong?”  Sarah immediately queried, barely beating Emily to the punch.
     “When I got knocked out, I must’ve hit my head.”  Charlotte gave them a sardonic and rueful smile.  “I overheard some woman- Helen, I think- saying I had a concussion.  And there’s a cut back there somewhere, and she mentioned infection.  This room doesn’t seem very sanitary.”
     Emily hissed out some very unladylike swears through clenched teeth.  “I don’t have a medical kit.”
     “Does anyone have a medical kit?”  Sarah called, but was met with apologetic head-shakes.
     “She needs to get to a hospital, now.”  Becker said with genuine concern.  “We can’t haul her around with us, potentially into danger.  It’s been hours, and it could be more serious than it seems.”
     “I’m not going anywhere without Stephen.”  Sarah asserted firmly.  She squeezed one of Charlotte’s hands, the other occupied by Emily’s comforting grip, but she kept her determined gaze on Becker.  “Charlotte, you’re my friend and I love you, but I can’t leave Stephen in here.”
     “I understand.”  The prone woman replied.
     Claudia pinched the bridge of her nose, stressed beyond words.  “Alright, listen.  Danny stands the best chance of escaping on his own- he’s used to walking and can shoot, and he was a copper.  Unless he’s unconscious or in a tank, he can probably get out.  We’ll look for him, but the others have to be our priority.  Stephen’s walking, but he handed himself over to Helen.  If she’s already got her hands on him….”
     She didn’t need to finish her thought.  The others could imagine.
     She swallowed, the movement feeling like she’d taken down a mouthful of gravel and glass, then cleared her throat.  “Patrick, you take Emily out of here and get her to a hospital.  Emily, you have a gun, you know the way, so you lead them.”  Her cousin nodded.  “The rest of us will stay here and search for the others.  We may have to split up to find everyone, so we all need to stay.  Okay?”
     The group, save Charlotte, nodded in agreement.  Sarah reluctantly took her hand out of Charlotte’s, bending to press a kiss to her forehead before standing up.  Emily shuffled backward to allow Patrick to move closer again, wrapping one of his arms around Charlotte’s back and laying one of hers over his shoulder, his free hand reaching up to hold hers.  He carefully got her to her feet, and her hands curled into his jacket, clinging on for dear life.
     They hobbled out of the cell first, Emily and the others just behind, and the divorcée knelt to collect the guns from the guard she had killed, forcing herself not to look at his wounds, the wounds she had inflicted.
     A sudden wordless scream from Jenny had her cousin whipping around in place, an action that caused her to lose her balance.  To her horror, another guard was coming down the hall, gun raised.  The following moments were a discombobulating blur of frenzied movement.  Emily groped desperately for the rifle on the body beside her, unable to make out anything being yelled in the cacophony of shouts from her friends and cousins- a cacophony that was silenced by the deafening crack of gunshots.
     The man coming down the hall crumpled, and Emily thought she might be sick.  Struggling to regain control of her breathing, she got to her feet, holding the rifle in a white-knuckled death grip.
     Charlotte groaned, the sound morphing into a cough.  The group’s collective gaze turned to the already-injured woman, traveling up and down her until they found a bleeding gash on one thigh.  The guard had apparently managed to get off a round, which had grazed her leg a little too deeply to be called merely a ‘graze’.  She leaned on Patrick for support. 
     “It’s okay.  I’m gonna get you out of here.”  He murmured to her.  Turning pained crocodile-green eyes to Emily, he implored, “Show me how to get out.”
     Emily started to take a step, but stopped abruptly.  “We came in through an air vent.  There’s no way she can do it- she can’t crawl.”  She thought for a moment.  “There was a door not too far from the vent we came in.  If I can get us to there, you can just carry her the whole way.”
     “Do it.”  Becker agreed.  “Go, now.”
     Emily nodded sharply and took the handgun from the first guard she’d killed, carefully tucking it into one of Patrick’s jacket pockets in case he needed it.  She then headed down the hall the way they’d come, Patrick and Charlotte following on her heels.
     “Be careful!”  Sarah called.  “And good luck.”  They didn’t reply, but they didn’t need to.  They rounded the corner and went out of sight, and for a moment the Egyptologist wondered if she should’ve gone with them.
     Then Stephen’s image flashed through her mind, and she knew she’d made the right choice.
     She bent and scooped up the dead guard’s rifle, while Jenny went down the hall to the other.  “I’ll take that, thank you.”  Jenny muttered, snatching up the rifle from him.  She released the magazine to check its capacity, mentally subtracting two (one that was embedded in Charlotte’s belly, one that was automatically loaded into the chamber) before slotting it back in.
     “Stephen came by here on his way.”  Becker remarked, eyeing the trail of tags on the floor.  “He must not have known they were here, or he would have let them out.”
      “Which means the others are somewhere else.”  Claudia said.  “C’mon, every second we wait could cost them.”
      The group resumed following Stephen’s path, pace quicker than it had been before.  The facility seemed to be bigger on the inside, jam-packed full with mazelike corridors and hallways.  It was disorienting, and only the scattered squares of paper gave them any confidence, hope, or faith that they weren’t lost.
      Most of the doors built into the walls of the passages were closed, but one was unexpectedly open.  The group slowed to a cautious pause, and Becker and Jenny exchanged a look before hefting their weapons aloft.  Becker pressed his back to the wall just beside the doorway, and Jenny moved to the opposite wall, both ready to do an action-film move and pop into the hallway, ready to blast anyone unfriendly inside it.
     The cousins exchanged a nod and moved, Becker turning and Jenny sidestepping.  The hallway was empty, causing relief to wash over them.  Becker lowered his pistol.
     And then a guard stepped into the hallway.  Becker’s gun went back up, but Jenny had never lowered hers.  On panicked instinct, she squeezed off a shot, taking the man down easily.  She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, finding herself panting with shock.
     Becker turned back around, looking slightly rattled- never in a million years had he expected for him to be the one getting saved.  His hazel eyes scanned over Jenny concernedly, the thought of Charlotte’s injury fresh in his mind.  “You alright?  Did he get you?”
     She shook her head, wide eyes still fixed on the corpse of the man she had just killed.  “I’m fine.”  She finally lowered the rifle’s muzzle for safety reasons.  “What’s so special about down here?”  She wondered aloud, entering the hallway.  Becker followed, eyes darting around for any sign of more unexpected hostiles.
     “Stephen didn’t go down here!”  Sarah called, hating the idea of a diversion.
     “He didn’t find Charlotte and the others, either, but they were being guarded.”  Becker returned, not unkindly.
     Canting her head in concession, she followed them.  The others mimicked her, and the group collectively came to a stop in front of a closed metal door.  The large number 1 was branded onto the door in white paint, some of it faded or worn away.
     Claudia collected the keys off the man her sister had killed- something that wasn’t sitting well with her- and passed them to Becker, who again unlocked the door before him.  Jenny and Claudia both raised their guns, Sarah holding her rake handle ready to bash someone over the head if need be, and the door swung open.
     The room was dark, and Becker cautiously felt around on the wall inside for a light switch.  Finding one, he flipped it, illuminating the room uncomfortably with a single fluorescent light on the ceiling.  The room was utterly empty of life, but contained what appeared to be x-ray equipment.
     Becker shut off the light again and closed the door tight to cover their tracks, moving to the next door over- 3.  Connor frowned at the number and peered over his own shoulder, finding the even-numbered doors on the opposite wall.  “The evens are over here.”  He reported.
     “I’ll get to those in a minute.”  His brother replied, unlocking door number three.  Sarah stepped back and pressed her ear to 2, tapping her weapon on it and listening for a response.  There was none, and she moved down to 4, motioning for Connor to move.
     It was clear when they opened door 5 that they were all laboratories, the three rooms they’d broken into enclosing something vaguely scientific- tables of microscopes, aquatic plants, dead sea creatures, et cetera.  Becker made to open Lab 7, but a muffled noise of rushing water, splashing, and indistinct shouting from the next room over attracted their attention.  Becker went to that one instead, and a moment later swung the door open.  The room was almost entirely filled with water, with observational walkways around it.
     And a familiar half-merman in it.
     “Danny!”  Jenny breathed in surprise and relief, rushing forward into the lab.
     “Jen!”  He called out, swimming toward her.  She raced to the upper walkway, crashing to her knees and reaching out for her boyfriend.  The Quinn came up on the other side, wet hands covering hers.  “Thank God you’re okay.  How did you get out?”  His eyes darted to the open door and landed on the group assembled there, some of which he knew weren’t captured along with him.  “You came.  Where’s Pat?”
     “Charlotte’s not doing good.”  Jenny admitted.  “She got knocked out and might have a concussion, and there’s a cut on her head that might be infected, and she got shot as we were escaping.”
     The woman’s future brother-in-law winced.  “She banged her head, too.  She might have a concussion.”
     “Great.”  Muttered his girlfriend.  “Well, Patrick and Emily left and took her with them to get to a hospital.  Do you know where Nick and Abby and Stephen are?”
     “Stephen’s here?  Didn’t know that.  The others, though, yeah.  They didn’t blindfold me or anything when they took me out of that room with the tanks, so as long as they’re still there, I can show you the way.  Let me get my clothes.  Anyone got a towel or something?”
     Claudia stripped off her jacket, knowing that it being cloth would help dry him faster than Sarah’s leather one, for example.  Jenny also peeled off a cardigan she was wearing, taking her sister’s jacket as well as Danny swam across the room to get his clothing.  He returned with them and Jenny and Becker helped him climb out, and the former assisted him in drying off and redressing.  He was given one of the dead guards’ pistols.
     Sarah and Connor joined the group.  “I can’t hear anything in any of the other labs in the hallway.”  The Egyptologist informed.
     Danny finished tying his shoelaces and stood.  “Good to know.  C’mon, I’ll take you to the others.”
     He headed back out into the hall where Stephen’s trail led onward, and the humans followed him.
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     Far across the facility, Emily Brown led Patrick and Charlotte through the old theatre.  Her pistol’s holster stayed on her hip thanks to her tied belt, and the rifle in her hands was ready to be raised and fired at any moment if need be.
     Somehow they had wound up on a stage, the backdrop depicting a cheerful blue sky decorated with white clouds.  Emily paused, looking out over the rows and rows of empty seats, scanning for another hallway or door.  Spotting one, she turned to cast a glance over her shoulder and saw Patrick just a few feet away, rubbing Charlotte’s back soothingly and murmuring consolingly to her as she stumbled along. 
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The sight simultaneously warmed and hurt Emily’s heart.  “This way.”  She directed, canting her head.
     She led them down a short set of stairs and through the audience seating, away from where thespians once acted before the place of entertainment had been corrupted by Oliver Leek and Helen Ambrose’s sickening and selfish goals.
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     Finally, Emily spotted the rather beautiful doors she had seen earlier, light filtering dimly through their frosted-glass windows.  “Here!”  She called, speeding up her walk in anticipation and relief.
     “Stop right there!”  A stern male voice called out, and the three whipped around to face the source.  It was another of those pesky guards- how many did Leek have?- and Emily lifted her rifle, moving to the side and leaning over a stairway railing in an attempt to shoot the man without hurting Charlotte and Patrick.
     But the man, whoever he was, had no such scruples and shot a single bullet from his gun.  Emily heard Charlotte cry out in pain and lose her already precarious balance, nearly taking Patrick to the floor as she fell.  That opened up a window for Emily to fire at the guard without risking going over the railing, and that was exactly what she did.
     And for the third time that day, Emily killed a man whose name she didn’t even know.
     She quickly let the gun go to her side, rushing to squat at her friend’s side as Patrick held her half in his arms, half in his lap.  The world seemed to stop, and Emily clapped a hand over her mouth to keep down the bilious vomit rising in her throat.  Blood was soaking darkly through the lacy white fabric of Charlotte’s top, oozing from where a single bullet fired by the guard had struck her in the lower abdomen.
     “Oh $h¡t.”  Emily breathed.  “$h¡t $h¡t $h¡t.”  She dropped the gun and scrambled to untie her belt, which kept her jacket cinched around her waist, shrugging the outerwear off to pull her white camisole off.  No one cared that she wasn’t wearing another shirt underneath as she desperately pressed the lacy garment to the single bullet wound in her friend’s stomach.
     “This really isn’t my day.”  Charlotte groaned.
     Patrick carefully slipped an arm under her knees, cradling her to his chest as he stood up.  Emily hurried back to the doors, grabbing her gun on the way, and reached for the mechanism.  However, to her dismay, the doors appeared to be chained shut.  “Dдɱи, I can’t get this open.”
     “Let me try.”  Patrick volunteered, gently placing Charlotte in a random chair that had been left behind.  “Stay with her.”
     Emily joined Charlotte as the Quinn fought with the doors.  “You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re okay.”  The Brown attempted to reassure her friend, but the words tasted like bitterness and ash, like lies.
     “Danny and I grew up in this area.”  Patrick said.  “There’s hospitals not far from here.  She’ll be okay.”  He looked back at the women and saw Charlotte shaking almost violently, eyes squeezed tightly closed in pain.  He hurried back to her side, crouching before her.  “There must be another way out.”
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      “Not that I could see.”  Emily refuted, feeling hopeless.  “We could try to take her through the vent, but with her stomach…she can’t crawl, and if we dragged her through we could hurt her worse.  How far are these hospitals?”
      “I think the closest ones are about fifteen minutes out.”  He replied.
      Emily shook her head.  “If we don’t get her outside now, she might bleed out before an ambulance gets here.”  She warned.
      Charlotte forced her eyes open.  “Even if you do get me out now, I still might not make it.”  She admitted.  “It’s okay.”  She consoled, tipping her head back to look at Emily as she squeezed her hand.  “You tried your best.  When I’m gone-” she swallowed “-go help the others get out.  And look after him.”
     “No, you’re not gonna die.”  Patrick shot down that thought.  “You’re not gonna die.  You’re gonna live, and one day, you’re gonna walk down an aisle in a white dress, and you’re gonna marry me.  You’re gonna be my wife, and we’re gonna live happily ever after like it’s a dдɱи Disney fairytale, okay?”
     Charlotte forced a smile, and he returned it with a pained one of his own, taking her hand in both of his.
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He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, keeping his eyes on hers.
     To his alarm, her face slackened and her eyes slipped closed.  “Charlotte?  Charlotte?”  His voice was frantic and thick with strangling tears. 
     Emily reached past him and pressed her fingers to her friend’s neck. “She’s alive, but barely.”  She told him, prompting his shoulders to drop in relief.  “I think she lost too much blood.”
     “I can’t lose her, Emily.”  He choked out.  “If she dies I think I will too.”
     That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Emily shot to her feet, snatching up her rifle, and stormed over to the top of the short flight of steps leading down to the doors.  Holding the gun at her waist, she let loose a torrent of bullets, even the thunderous noise of which did not rouse Charlotte.  The lead tore into the door, destroying the chain and most of the door’s opening mechanism.  Descending almost to the bottom, she drew one leg back and thrust it out in a Spartan kick.  The doors flew outward and open, flooding the space with daylight.
     “Come on.”  She urged.  “Get her in the van- I’ll drive.”
     Needing no further encouragement, Patrick scooped up his fiancée again and followed her best friend outside.
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     Danny led Becker, Claudia, Connor, and Sarah toward the tank room.  He was unaware of the significance of the teabag tags that marked the same path as the one he was taking, but the humans behind him did and were simultaneously relieved and worried that they were the same route.
     Finally, they neared their destination, and the sound of screaming- both male and female- reached their ears faintly.  The group froze and Connor and Claudia exchanged glances, just barely able to pick up Abby and Nick’s voices, respectively.
     Danny broke into a run, breaking the others out of their still states, and wrenched the door at the end of the hall open.  The group poured inside to find several armed thugs grappling and wrestling with Abby on the wet floor.  The mermaid was putting up quite a fight, scratching and screaming and biting and thrashing.  Nick was shouting from inside his tank, pounding his hands on his side of the door that separated him from his cousin.
     The sudden noise of the door opening caused everyone inside the room to pause and look in the humans’ and hybrid’s direction.  Those in the group holding guns immediately raised them and opened fire, carefully avoiding hitting the mermaid on the floor and killing all the men.
     Connor shoved past his brother, calling out to Abby by name, and lost his footing on the multicolored concrete floor that had been slickened by copious amounts of water and now blood.  Thankfully, said substances caused him to simply…slide across the floor through the puddle and right over to Abby.  Ignoring his now soaked and probably soiled trousers, he threw his arms around Abby, receiving an equally-passionate hug in return.
     “Did Caroline hurt you?”  She immediately asked, pulling back partly to scan him for any sign of injury.
     He shook his head.  “No, they just threw us all in a cell.  Charlotte got hurt, but Emily and Patrick have her.  She’ll be fine.”  He looked over at the opened tank that had once contained her and from which approximately two hundred gallons of water had gushed out and across the floor.  “Where were they taking you?”
     “I don’t know.”  She admitted.  “Probably a lab of some kind.  I don’t want to think about it.”
     As Connor and Abby were reuniting, the others had come fully into the room and stripped the guards of their weapons.  Becker and Danny, having (respectively) militaristic and policemanly mindsets, moved through the room, eyes sweeping it strategically.
     “Nick!”  Claudia had shouted, running to his tank with more agility than Connor- agility she and Jenny and Emily had developed from years of wearing heels.
     “Claudia, you shouldn’t be here.”  Nick told her urgently, both terrified for her and terrified that just like Stephen had been taken by Helen upon coming to rescue him, she too would be.  “Go, get out while you still can.”
     She shook her head.  “I’m not leaving without you.  Or Abby, or Stephen.”
     “Yeah, speaking of Stephen, where is he?”  Sarah piped up.
     “He was here.”  Abby supplied.  “He came to get us out.  He said- He said he’d made a deal with Helen, a trade of sorts.  But she- what’s your word for it?- she double-crossed him and didn’t let Nick out.  She hurt him with something she was holding, I don’t know what it was, and they strapped him down to this table with wheels thing and took him away.  She said they were taking him to Labs 7 and 13.”
     Becker cursed.  “Dдɱи¡t, we could’ve gotten him out already.  I almost opened the door, but we heard Quinn in 9.”
     “Claudia, they’re going to dissect him alive.”  Nick revealed.  “We have to get him away from her before she can.”
     The Brown nodded firmly, disgusted and aghast at the thought of him befalling such a fate.  “I’m not leaving you here, but I have no idea how to get you out of these tanks.”
     “What about the forklift?”  Sarah suggested.
     “Forklift?”  Connor questioned.
     “Yeah, I saw a forklift outside.  I don’t know if it still runs, but…it could probably move the tank.”  She shrugged.  “Unless anyone has a good idea on how to open it.”
     Nick shook his head.  “There was some specific method to how they opened Abby’s, and I don’t know it.”
     Connor reluctantly stood up and left Abby on the floor, moving the door on its hinges to inspect it.  “Looks like an electronic keypad and a combination lock, like on a safe.  I could probably crack both of them, but it would take a long time.”
     “A long time we don’t have.”  Claudia sighed.  “Alright, we get the forklift and take Nick’s tank out that way.  But it’s not gonna fit through the vent we came through- either of them, actually.  So we’ll need another way out.”
     Abby perked up slightly at that.  “I might be able to help with that, actually.  I’ve been listening to the water in the pipes, and I think I can probably find either where it’s coming from or where it’s going.”
     “Probably the Thames, one way or the other.”  Becker noted. 
     “See that?”  She pointed at a remote unit dangling from the ceiling.  “Once we were in the tanks, they pushed one of the buttons and the tanks filled up.  I guess they forgot to when they took me out, but if you can figure out which button controlled the water, I should be able to hear it again.”
     Becker nodded.  “Okay- Connor, you and I will take Abigail out to find another way out and get the forklift.  The rest of you…go find Stephen.  Hopefully Emily and Patrick and Charlotte will be outside by now.”
     Sarah grabbed the remote and turned it around so the merfolk could see the buttons.  “Did either of you see how far down the remote the button was?”
     “I think it was at the bottom.”  Nick supplied.
     Becker knelt in front of Abby.  “Alright, I’m gonna pick you up now.  You can put your arms around my neck, alright?”  She nodded.  “Connor, take her legs.  I don’t think I can take all her weight.”
     He picked her up princess-style, passing the lab keys to Danny, and Connor indeed took her legs.  Sarah pressed the red button and the entire group could hear the water rushing through the pipes.  Abby pointed across the room, and the brothers carried her in that direction.
     Sarah dropped the remote, letting it swing and dangle on its cord.  “You can stay here if you want, Claudia, but I’m going after Stephen.”
     “Well, you’re not going anywhere alone.”  Danny responded.  “I’m coming with you.”
     Jenny was torn- stay with her twin to protect her, or go with her boyfriend and Sarah to be another shooter in the likely event they encountered trouble while saving Stephen?
     Claudia knew her internal debate.  “Go.”  She told her, reaching out and squeezing her hand.  “I’ll find you outside.”
     Jenny nodded and handed over another two pistols.  “Take care of yourself.  And Nick.” 
     She followed Sarah and Danny out of the room.
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     The group’s plan was good in theory, but what they didn’t know was that Helen and her cronies were a step ahead.
     In Lab 7, they had heard the humans outside searching for Danny Quinn.  Stephen had recognized some of the voices and opened his mouth to call out for them, but Helen had noticed and promptly shoved an entire box’s worth of latex gloves into his mouth.  Snatching up his tablet, Leek had accessed Lab 9’s tank water feed and reversed the flow.  Quinn shouted out a moment later, frantically trying to swim away from the suction, and the group had passed over Lab 7 upon hearing the noise.  Smiling devilishly at his plan’s success, Leek shut off the suction again and went into the facility’s security feed.
     Helen peered over his shoulder.  “I don’t like this.  Change of plan- we pause and move Stephen to mine.  The auxiliary lab there will work fine.  Caroline, pack that up.”
     Caroline obeyed, placing the shard of bone she had just collected from Stephen’s arm into a tube.  She sealed the tube and packed it into a foam mold in a briefcase, followed by the bone samples that had been taken from Stephen’s tail, rib, and sternum; his numerous blood and tissue samples; a scraping of scales from his tail; pieces of his tailfin.
     When everything was packed up, Caroline hung the case off the end of the gurney and grabbed a corner of it.  Clones stood behind her, he and Helen either side of Stephen’s head, and Leek took the corner across from Caroline.  Together, they wheeled the helpless merman out of the lab.    
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     Finally, Abby’s careful listening resulted in the half-brothers finding a wide door through which they could go through.  They opened it and stumbled out into the comparatively blinding daylight.  The Thames River flowed noisily nearby.
     Instinctively, Abigail’s body- already starting to dry uncomfortably in places, leaving patches of human among her scales- lurched toward the sound.  “I need to get in the river.”  She said, forcing herself to stay still as the men holding her struggled to keep her in their arms.
     Becker nodded.  “Alright, we’ll get you there.”  He agreed.  He and Connor carried her to the shore, then got down on the ground- and allowed her to more or less roll into the water.  She cringed immediately- the city pollution was disgusting and irritating, giving the water a grungy and dirty feeling, and it made the water around the Inn with its slight levels of pollution seem pure in comparison.
     Abby dunked herself, then popped back up and slicked her hair back out of her face.  “I’ll wait here until the others get out.”  She told them.  “And then I’ll head back to Atlantis.  If Stephen is hurt, he will need to go there to heal, and the king will want us all together for a while.  But I’ll come back to the Inn when I can.”
     Connor lifted his hand just a little, wanting to reach out and- well, he didn’t know what; touch her, perhaps, hug her, or maybe kiss her- but dropped it and felt like a coward.  “Okay.”  He managed weakly.
     She gave him a tiny smile, then disappeared underwater in a flash.
     Becker clapped his older brother on the shoulder, sensing his turmoil.  “C’mon, I think I see the forklift.”  They got up.  “What I do not see is our van.  Where the h3ll is our van?”
     “Maybe Leek stole it?”  Connor suggested.
     Becker shot him a look.  “I don’t see Emily and Charlotte and Patrick either.  They probably took her to the hospital.”
    They climbed inside the forklift and it took Becker five minutes to figure out how to start it.  Alone he could’ve solved it in maybe two, being generous, but Connor- bless his heart- proved to be a nervous wreck and consequently a nuisance.  Becker spent the majority of the five minutes batting Connor’s hands away from the controls.
     Once Becker finally had it running and was sure that all limbs were safely within the confines of the vehicle’s cab, he drove the machinery into the building, heading back the path they and Abby had come.
     The mermaid watched them go.
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     The small modicum of comfort that Sarah found in Stephen’s teabag-tag trail was almost nonexistent, all but wholly smothered and drowned by both the overwhelming guilt that she had been that close to saving Stephen and hadn’t even bothered to check, and the sickening anxiety that she had been plagued with since the merman had crawled into the dusty air vent but had been intensified substantially upon learning that they had only just missed him- the anxiety that something terrible was going to happen to him and she wouldn’t be able to save him in time.
     She rounded the corner of the hallway into the hall of labs, stopping short at the sight of an open door.  Pushing onward, she raised her weapon mindfully as she peered through the doorway into Lab 7.  It was empty of humans or merfolk.  “$h¡t!”  She swore.
     Danny and Jenny were right on her heels, and the couple moved into the room past her.  Danny carefully clambered up onto a built-in countertop with drawered and cabinets underneath, reaching out to touch the inactive fluorescent light.  “It’s warm.”  He reported, jumping down with the loud sound of his rubber soles slapping down onto concrete floor.  “They’ve been here.  Not long ago.”
     “Lab 13.”  Sarah breathed, rushing down the hall again and jerking on said lab’s door.  To her dismay, it was locked, and she tucked her rake handle under one armpit to fumble with the keys.  This time, she successfully unlocked her target door and wrenched it open, but was again met with darkness rather than the sight of Helen, Leek, and possibly others doing heinous things to Stephen.  “Dдɱи¡t!  He’s not here!”  She shouted, slamming the door.
     “If he’s not here, where else could he be?”  Jenny questioned, offering a reasonable train of thought.
     Danny frowned pensively.  “If you’ll both give me a mo and be quiet for just a sec, I might be able to tell.”
     Sarah bit down on her lip, accidentally so hard her teeth tore through the thin membrane of skin and triggering warm blood to spill into her mouth.  She watched for a moment as Danny squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself to where the floor and one of the outer hallway’s walls met, then exchanged a confused glance with Jenny, who looked equally befuddled.
     His eyes shot open a minute later, and he jumped to his feet.  “Alright, I think I’ve got something.  Come on.”
     He took off down the hall, away from the tank room, and Sarah spat out a tangy mouthful of blood before following him and his girlfriend.
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     “Stephen’s gonna be okay.”
     “Jenny’s gonna be fine.”
     The merman and woman in the tank room had been silent since the others left, but they had both coincidentally opened their mouths to speak at the same time- and, ironically, both to assure the other that their closest loved one would be alright.
     “I know.”  Claudia replied first.  “She’s smart, she’s tough, she can shoot, and she’s got Danny with her.  I know I shouldn’t be worried, but I can’t help it.”  She turned to look at him, something she hadn’t done both because she needed to keep a cautionary eye out and because it hurt to see him so caged, and placed one hand on the edge of the porthole window.  “And she and Danny and Sarah are gonna save Stephen.  I have complete faith in them.  If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d almost pity Helen when Sarah gets her hands on her.”
     Despite the situation, Nick’s mouth twitched in a vague semblance of a smile.  “Aye.  I would like to see that.”
     Claudia thought of the items in her messenger bag and echoed his smile.
     A distant mechanical noise Claudia hadn’t really noticed was growing closer, and much louder with the proximity.  Clasping her pistol with both hands, the Brown raised her gun and shifted her body into an operable stance, moving to block Nick’s tank with her body.
     But to her and the merman’s relief, the source of the noise was Becker and Connor rolling up in the forklift Sarah had mentioned.  Abby was nowhere to be seen, so Claudia assumed that she was safely outside- in the river, maybe.  She lowered her gun, holding it one-handed at her side as she stepped out of the way.  Becker pulled up to Nick from behind and slid the forks of the machinery under his tank, but didn’t pull away.  He leaned out and raised his voice.  “The tank’s not moving!  See if it’s attached to the frame!”
     Claudia looked and, sure enough, several industrial-looking metal pieces fastened the podlike cage to a strange squared-off archlike structures of yellow metal framing it.  A glance around the room confirmed that all the other tanks had one as well.
     She stepped back and lifted her weapon again, aiming above the tank.  Realizing her intention, Becker ducked back into the cab of the forklift and pulled Connor in closer to him.  She fired off several rounds, breaking the fastenings with her bullets.  When all appeared to be sufficiently blasted, she lowered the gun and stepped back again.  Becker fiddled with the controls again, smirking in success as the forklift was then able to move the tank.  He paused and gestured to Claudia, who climbed into the cab on Connor’s other side.  It was a tight squeeze, but no one uttered a word of complaint.
     They taxied at a safe but irritatingly slow speed back down the corridors, heading for the Thames.  All was going well for several minutes until the tank began to rock in place, accompanied by almost inaudible shouts from Nick.  Becker stopped and Claudia hopped out, striding forward through the almost too-narrow gap between the forklift and wall.  Her mouth opened to ask Nick what was wrong, but the words died on her lips as her eyes landed on what Nick had seen.
     Helen and Leek, Caroline and Clones with them, and Stephen strapped prone to a gurney in their midst.
     Connor came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.  “Tell Becker to shut that off.”  She ordered, voice just high enough to be heard.  She felt him move away and heard the forklift turn off, but her eyes never left those of Helen Ambrose.
     A moment later, however, they did when they caught movement on the other side of the group assembled in front of the forklift and tank.  Claudia’s mouth shaped into a genuine but dark smile.
     Sarah, Danny, and Jenny had found them- trapping Helen and her cronies between what might be called a rock and a hard place.
     “This ends now.”  Claudia breathed.
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     Everything seemed to happen in a blur, but Sarah was entirely in control and sure of herself.
     She tore her mocha-brown eyes away from Stephen and moved forward, heedless of the bullets now flying as they were fired by all armed parties, and swung out her rod to crack flat across the chest of the grunt whose name she still didn’t know.  It knocked the breath straight out of him, and she lifted it again to bring the end of it down onto his skull.
     He was standing between her and Stephen, and that was a problem.
     But Caroline Steel was an opponent she had not foreseen.  The woman in question attacked with an elbow aimed for the Egyptologist’s face and a kick directed at her knee, both of which unfortunately hit their marks.
     Yet as she stumbled back, she collided with the immovable object and unstoppable force that was Jenny Lewis.  Years of walking, running, dancing, and stair-climbing in heels had given the woman impeccable balance, enough for her to be completely steady on one red-heel-clad foot as she lifted the other and kicked Caroline in the stomach.  The other woman doubled over, and Sarah hit the bony back of her gun hand, causing her to drop said gun.  Hissing like a feral cat- or a snake, more accurately- she lunged for the women, but was abruptly hit by something neither woman saw and collapsed to the ground.
     Becker had climbed out of the forklift’s cab and onto its overhead guard, army-crawling forward across the top of Nick’s tank.  Upon seeing Caroline, the woman who toyed with and broke his beloved brother’s heart, attacking his cousin and friend who he regrettably didn’t know too well, he selected her as his first target and let a single bullet loose.  It hit her in the left shoulder and brought her to the floor.
     Sprawled on the dirty ground, Caroline reached for her gun, but one of Jenny’s feet came down over it, the stiletto heel landing inside the trigger guard and therefore making it impossible for Caroline to even tug the firearm back.  Furious eyes turned up at them in defiance.  Jenny leveled her own handgun at the other woman’s forehead, their eyes locked, and pulled the trigger without an ounce of hesitation or remorse.
     Helen and Leek were determined not to let Stephen be taken from them, but those around them were even more determined to get him back and kill his torturers.  Helen dropped into a strategic crouch, blocking herself with Stephen’s stretcher and Leek’s legs, and desperately wished she had thought to get a gun for herself.
     Leek, unwillingly functioning as a human shield, fired at Claudia, but the Brown fired back and caught his gun with one shot, deeply grazing the length of one of his arms with another.  He dropped his useless weapon and scrambled for a second.
     Danny had immediately shot at Helen, but her disappearing act had prevented him from actually hitting her.  When he saw Sarah take down Clones, he turned his gun to the grunt and put a bullet in his head, effectively ending his participation in the conflict.  It was quite difficult, he discovered, to try to shoot without risking hitting someone on his side.
     Connor, unarmed and blocked, was unable to join the fight.  He didn’t want to kill, but he hated the thought of his friends and family fighting to the death right in front of him and being unable to help them.  So he moved through the cab of the forklift and went around the other side of Nick’s tank, peeking carefully to see where he could be of help.  He watched as Leek grabbed Stephen’s gurney and turned it to provide more of a barrier between himself and those out for his blood, using Stephen as an (in)human shield.  He watched for a moment as the greasy, rodentlike man popped up to shoot off a bullet or two before ducking down again.
     So, taking a leaf out of Abby’s book when they had first been captured, he pried off his shoes and waited for Leek to come up again.  When he did, Connor lobbed one toward him.  It missed just barely, grazing the collar of the snake’s lab coat.  The rat stopped in shock and let his guard down, turning to see where the attack had come from.  Recognition flashed in his eyes and on his face just as Connor brought his arm back again and hurled his other shoe at him.
     It hit him square in the face and he went down.
     Claudia Brown, like her sister, was an unstoppable force- one might argue a force of nature.  Her eyes were keen and worked in an almost choreographed tandem with the sights of her gun, but darted about the space watchfully as she checked that everyone not vile and despicable was not getting hurt.  To her immense relief, no one seemed to be taking any damage, and Caroline and the buttchinned grunt appeared to be dead.
     But those ever-moving, much-seeing eyes picked up a suspicious movement in her peripheral vision: Helen trying to make a run for it.
     “Oh h3ll no.”  She snarled, marching forward a few steps and firing off a single shot that hit Helen in the back, causing her to fall sprawl out on the ground.  Claudia advanced, moving Stephen’s stretcher aside to keep a clear line of fire on Helen.
     “You’re not going anywhere but straight to hell, you evil b¡tch.”
     The group gathered around her, rather in awe of both her feat and her words.  Jenny caught Leek attempting to move subtly on the ground and ended his pitiful existence like she had Caroline’s- a single bullet between the eyes.
     Sarah barely spared Helen a glance- a hateful one, to be fair- before she was entirely focused on Stephen.  He looked terrible.  He was pale and his eyes and cheeks already looked sunken- the effect of some chemical, if she were to guess.  What seemed to be puncture marks from hypodermic needles dotted his ribcage and tail, and his body was littered with jagged-edged holes from which a worrying amount of blood oozed and by which she could see damage to his bones.  He was dehydrating, leaving him partially transformed in places.  Some of the flesh of his tail and webbing and spine of his fin were missing.  His gill flaps looked like they had been messed with as well, and his bonds were bone-crushingly tight.
     “Oh God.”  Sarah breathed in horror.  “What have they done to you?”
     Her fingers quickly worked at the buckles and straps, hands shaking with equal parts horror and outrage, and she finally managed to undo one of them.  She flung it away, and his chest expanded noticeably just from having the leather off it.
     “Sarah….”  He murmured incoherently.
     “I’m here.”  She replied, willing herself not to stop working.  “I’m here.  You’re gonna be okay, I promise, I’m gonna get these off you and you’re gonna be fine.”
     The others heard her speaking to him, and Danny and Connor- the two nearest her- reached over to assist.  Within about ninety seconds, all the straps were off.
     “Move; I’ll carry him.”  Danny said, and Sarah reluctantly stepped aside to allow the hybrid to pull the merman into his arms.
     “We need to get out of here, now.”  Becker urged.  “He needs to get to water and I’m shocked no one’s turned up over the gunshots yet.  We need to go.”
     There was no argument brokered, and the group quickly fled, with Sarah at Danny and Stephen’s side.  Becker got back in the forklift and followed them as speedily as he dared drive it toward the exit.
     But one remained behind.  Claudia Brown stared with a burning hatred at Helen Ambrose, who had now flipped onto her back.  The intensity of her fiery glare was a hundred- no, a thousand- times harsher and stronger than it had been when they had first met just hours ago.
     Claudia took a Zippo and a glass bottle from her messenger bag, lighting the rag hanging out of its neck.  When the Molotov cocktail was burning properly, Claudia drew her arm back like a snake of judgement coiling and launched it forward.  It struck Helen in the chest, shattering and exploding into a blaze of fire.  Its liquid contents spread burningly across the floor to engulf Leek’s body, followed by Caroline’s and Clones’ as well.
     As satisfied as she dared to be, Claudia turned around and left, running with her family and friends outside.  She found them all- save Sarah and Danny, who were taking Stephen to the river’s shore- clustered around Nick’s tank, trying to figure out how to free him.
     A sudden flash of gold solved their problem.  A trident, beautiful and ornate, came hurtling through the air and pierced one of the hinges.  The group’s collective gaze snapped to the source of said trident and were amazed to find King Lester himself in the river.  His children were at his side, all four accessorized less ornately than before, though all proudly wearing their crowns.  With a flick of Lester’s wrist- which was now clad in an unfamiliar golden cuff- the trident flew back into his grasp.  The movement tore the door off Nick’s tank, and with a cascade of water the merman tumbled out.
     Lester let the three-pronged head of the trident- Poseidon’s Trident, if it was indeed the same object from Nick’s stories of the royal family- dip into the water, then raised it again.  Water followed the golden weapon, more and more being pulled out of the river as Lester spun the trident above his head like a cowboy with a lasso.  Then, like as an ancient king directing the charge with a symbolic forward thrust of his sword, water surged onto land, defying science.  It entered Leek’s facility, breaking in and out through the walls, flowing deeply inside to drag more of that charnel-house and its contents back out.  And so by the command of King Lester, Poseidon’s Son, the entire building was seized and destroyed by water and dragged into the depths of the River Thames, leaving the ground beneath it bare and desolate as if it had never served as a foundation.
     The last of the building and everything (and everyone) it held was submerged in the river, and the group caught a glimpse of Stephen unconscious in Ryan’s arms before the prince and his brother and sister delved beneath the surface.  Lester nodded once at the group before following his kin.    
     And at long last, it was over.
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Dividers are used with permission from their creator; @animatedglittergraphics-n-more . The other gifs are mine. Some lines might've been borrowed from Primeval and one is from The Vampire Diaries. I think that's it.
Author’s note: First of all, this chapter was incredibly angsty and whump-y, and for that I apologize.  Good news though: there is only one more angsty chapter left before the final two chapters of this book, and they’re solid happiness!  Also, Lester is not actually Poseidon’s son- it’s a title passed down to the male monarchs of the Atlantean throne. Finally, for those of you who don't know, Cetus is the sea monster that Andromeda was fed to by her father before Perseus could rescue her.
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