Chapter Text
It was early when Harry’s mum woke him. She kissed his forehead and said she had to go back home earlier than expected, but before she left, she told him to go to the beach. “You’re not the same without the ocean. Stop running away from something you love.”
Harry was half asleep, but he still wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He couldn’t go to the beach or he would be overwhelmed by emotions he couldn’t handle.
She fixed him with a stare that left no room for argument. “I expect you to go down to the beach this morning like you used to. Mum’s orders.”
Harry shook his head but smiled as she rose up and said goodbye. He listened as doors opened and closed, and when it was silent again, he sat up and took a deep breath.
It would be his first time on the beach since he broke up with Louis. He had laid in bed for days. He was only just started to feel functional, two months later. Somewhere in the midst of that he started seeing his old coworker, Luke, but he would be lying if he said his heart was really in it. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
His mom said to go like he used to. He would go to the beach, but he would wear earbuds, like he did at the beginning. He could drown out everything other than the sand and the sun.
That was, of course, how he found himself kneeling in the sand over the naked body of an unconscious man who would look so much like Louis, if Louis had legs. He reached out and touched the man, gently shook him. The man’s eyes fluttered open. They were blue and far too familiar for him to stop his mouth in time. “Louis?” His voice cracked around the name. It couldn’t be.
“Harry,” the man croaked in response. Somehow, it was Louis. Upon closer inspection, his legs had traces of scales, and there was a wound low on his hip, a bruise caked in dried blood.
“Lou, what happened? Is this real? Are you okay?” Questions bubbled out him. His hands shook as he rubbed at Louis’ arms as if to warm him.
Tears swam in Louis’ eyes. He sobbed, “Please.”
Harry didn’t know what that meant, but he knew he needed to take Louis somewhere safe, wrap his fresh limbs in something soft and warm, and take care of him. “Can I take you home?”
Louis nodded. So Harry picked him up in his arms and carried him home, like a shivering, naked bride. As soon as his cuts were cleaned and bandaged, Louis drifted off to sleep in Harry's bed.
Harry canceled everything—no writing sessions, no dinners, no lads’ nights. He called Luke to cancel their third date, explaining something had come up. He didn’t mention that the something had come up from the ocean.
Louis slept for hours. Harry fed him, tended his injuries, helped him get to the bathroom and back, and kept him wrapped in soft blankets. He didn’t pry, didn’t push. Despite Louis’ state, Harry felt amazed to see him there, in his own bed, all soft and sleepy. He felt something like contentment slither in beside his concern.
The story came out in bits and pieces over the next few days as Louis found his footing, stopped looking so pale and scared. Louis had tried to scrape away his tail. It hadn’t worked… until it did. Louis could never quite explain that part, but his legs were permanent.
Harry drew him baths filled with sea salt and opened the windows so he could hear the ocean. As he gained strength, Harry helped him learn to coordinate his new limbs.
Eventually they went down to the beach. Louis gripped Harry’s hand tight enough to hurt, but Harry didn’t complain, just moved slowly beside Louis, mirroring him as he sat down and put his feet in the surf.
“It’s strange—being here on the sand,” Louis whispered.
Harry nodded, but he didn’t speak.
“I didn’t really plan it, you know. I just… everything hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.
Louis barely paused before turning to Harry, eyes wild. “Was it the tail? Does this make things different?” He breathed. “Do you still love me?”
“God, Lou. Of course. Of course, I still love you,” he said, voice wavering as he reached out to brush his fingertips against Louis’ skin.
Louis stared at him, tears forming and falling down his cheeks. “Really?”
Harry bit his lip and nodded. “How could I not?”
“Was it the tail?”
“In a way." Harry swallowed. "It was hard to love someone I couldn’t live with or sleep beside or share with my family.... I just knew I couldn’t do it forever.”
“But now I have legs,” Louis said with a little smile.
Harry reached out to brush the tears from his cheeks. “Now you have legs.”
Now he could do this forever.
~~~
The first time Louis saw his mother after he turned, he cried so hard it turned into hiccups. She just rubbed his back and held him. When Harry met her, he felt embarrassed because he had stolen her son, but when he said as much, she laughed. “You didn’t steal him, love. He was meant to be on the land.” And, well, Harry knew what she meant.
They fell easily into a routine. Every morning Harry would make Louis breakfast while they talked through some human world knowledge. Then, Louis would come write with Niall and him. Niall, to his credit, never asked questions about the strange man Harry introduced as his boyfriend. When Louis didn’t know what a mango was, Niall showed him how to cut it. When Louis accidentally bit into a whole raw fish, Niall just laughed.
In the evenings, Louis would meet with a tutor to practice reading and writing in English. And then it was only fair that Harry also received lessons. Harry could say quite a few phrases in Louis’ language, but understanding when Louis spoke was still hard. Unless he just raised an eyebrow and asked, “Safrey?” Harry knew exactly what that meant.
~~~
Summer afternoons were filled with Louis’ family. They could all linger together at the shore of the island Louis had once brought Harry to, and while surely not the same, Louis seemed satisfied with it.
One of those afternoons, Jay perched near Harry watching the girls play.
“How’s your mother?”
“She’s doing okay. One of the cats was sick for a bit, but nothing too bad.... I wish you could meet her. I think you two would get along so well.”
Jay grinned for a moment. “Oh I think that’s safe to say.”
“Hmm?”
“Did Louis ever tell you how he turned?”
“He…has trouble with the details.”
“You should ask Anne.”
Harry barked out a laugh. “Right. Like she would know.” Jay fixed her gaze on him, unnervingly blank, and Harry realized that he had never told Jay his mother’s name. “Wait. What are you saying?”
“Better ask her yourself,” she said lightly and pushed off into the water toward the others.
Harry sat with that puzzling interaction for a few days before he asked his mum.
She laughed. “Oh, darling, don’t you remember my friend Jay from the photo albums?”