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Underwater, the storm up above was nothing but quick bursts of light reflecting on the surface above, wild currents dragging Charles' body around like it weighed nothing while he sunk to the dark bottom of the ocean. He should've known there would be a riot, should've known he wasn't safe with Sebastian Shaw on board his ship, turning everyone against him so he could take the ship to himself.
Now, his body sank down slowly, quietly, the water silent around him, numbing the sounds of storm above while his barely conscious mind went silent as well. It was peaceful, he realized. It wouldn't be once Charles finally sucked in his first lungful of water, but for now, there was blissful and morbid peace around him while the sea finally took him.
There, underwater, his now unfeeling and unmoving legs thanks to Sebastian weren't a problem.
His chest started hurting them, some of the peace leaving his body as he tried to move his legs to get to the surface again, to catch some air. Even if he could move them now, his body didn't seem to cooperate, the movement of his arms weak as he tried to swim up, not helping in any way. He looked up, watching a burst of light above him, above the waves, lighting striking as the storm kept going.
There was nothing he could do. Still, he held his breath just a little longer, watching the lights above him like they were fireworks. If he tried enough, Charles could pretend they were the fireworks he'd seen once in one of his travels. He remembered the gloom of not being able to show Raven those, knowing that his foster sister would've loved them.
Raven, who would be waiting for him to show up at the port to visit her, to give her the money and food she needed to keep herself and her family alive and comfortable after they lost everything.
Charles wouldn't arrive at the port, wouldn't be able to see her and the woman she called her partner, or his nephew and niece. He'd never see them grow. He just hoped Raven would be able to keep them together doing the jobs she did before Charles started to force her to accept the money he got with the pirate business. And to think she would have to go back to stealing and mercenary work, all because Charles couldn't keep himself alive… He knew she would be well, she always was so careful and good at everything she did, but he feared, always feared. She was all he had left. His only comfort was knowing he wasn't all she had left anymore, not with the family she had made for herself. She wouldn't be alone.
Charles, on the other hand, had only the lightning above and the dark and unforgiving ocean around him for company.
He closed his eyes, holding his breath for as long as he could now, knowing it wouldn't be long until it was all done. For a moment, there was only the cold water and the feeling of nothingness as he sank. When something touched his skin, however, his eyes opened again, tired, barely seeing anything, and he was sure he was hallucinating.
He looked into bright blue eyes — or where they grey? Charles couldn't really tell — that shone like fire underwater, with a light that seemed to radiate from themselves. It was a person, Charles noticed, or at least looked like it, with a sharp jaw and white hair that floated with the currents in a hypnotizing way over their head. That person looked at Charles intensely, as if they wanted to know what Charles was doing there, confused with his presence. For a moment, Charles thought he was seeing an angel.
When his eyes looked a little closer at the person, Charles noticed that their bottom half, where their legs should be, wasn't there. Instead, Charles almost took a deep breath as he saw the tail moving lazily, shining just as much as his eyes were with a reddish hue, each small movement making the scales change color into red, pink, a light purple and magenta. The fins at the end of the tail were translucent, although it seemed to reflect the scales' colors once in a while.
A siren, and the most beautiful thing Charles had ever seen in his life — a blessing on his dying moments perhaps. He wasn't alone anymore, suddenly.
Charles gave the siren a smile, a quiet "thank you" for their presence, for being the last thing Charles would see, and the siren seemed to react by backing down for a moment, as if surprised by the smile. They blinked at Charles, bright eyes studying the dying man before they got closer again, carefully.
Charles' chest started spasming then, lungs begging to be filled as his mind turned more and more distant, no oxygen to keep him awake anymore.
He felt a careful touch on his chest, eyes blurring the images in front of him but still being able to see the siren's eyes there, closer now, looking at him. There was another careful touch, and suddenly Charles felt like he was being held, and he couldn't be more grateful — the last time someone had held him was Raven, and it had been so long… There was a strange comfort at knowing he was being held while he died.
He felt himself being moved through the water at a speed he knew no human would be able to move, his mind forming a quiet question of "What is happening now?"
The answer never came, however, as he felt his consciousness slip away, the only thing he felt before the darkness took him being the cold skin of the siren against his body, and the movement of the water as they coursed through it.
Charles woke up with lazy blinks, his mind slowly coming back to consciousness as he looked around himself and frowned. Above him there were sharp rocks, a roof of them over his head; under him, more rocks — hard, wet and unforgiving as a few sharp parts poked the skin of his back. He realized for a moment the softness under his head, like a pillow, turning his head slightly to see there was what looked like a lump of wet sand there, as if it was placed under his head.
As his vision blurred with the movement, feeling ill, like he had moved too brusquely, Charles remembered what had happened before he arrived in what looked like a cave: he was drowning, he was almost dying, and then he saw a siren. A siren… And that siren had held him, the vague memory of Charles moving through the water with them in the back of his mind.
The siren had brought him there, wherever there was.
He tried to get up, realizing once again his legs weren't moving, a numb pain at his back where Shaw had struck him before he took Charles' ship, making all the air leave Charles' lungs. He squeezed his thigh, but he couldn't feel his own touch reflected there, as if he was touching someone else's legs and not his own. He closed his eyes, deciding to try and survive first before he tried to focus on his newfound disability.
He propped his torso up with his arms, grunting with the ache in his body from the near death experience, feeling his hands shaking. By his side, he noticed, there was a pool of clear water that shone with the light of what looked like fluorescent rocks underwater, making the cave illuminated enough for him to see. He looked around, trying to find a way out, swallowing thickly as he noticed the only way out was underwater, through what looked like a tunnel. He didn't have the strength to swim without the aid of his legs, his shaking arms proof of this. He laid back down with a huff, closing his eyes again for a moment.
That siren had brought Charles to that cave and saved his life, but why?
He stayed with his eyes closed, feeling his body getting lighter, as if he was floating on the sharp rocks, too exhausted and almost on the edge of unconsciousness again. And he would've fallen asleep — or passed out, although right at that moment they didn't have much of a difference for Charles —, if it wasn't for the soft sound of the water moving on the cave.
Charles' eyes opened again, turning his head to see the siren poking their head out of the water and staring at Charles, apparently surprised at seeing Charles staring back at them. Now that Charles wasn't half dead and had oxygen in his lungs, he could see them properly, eyes still shining with that mysterious shine as if they were fluorescent like the rocks down below. Their skin seemed a strange mix of golden and blue, almost human-like, but not quite; their white hair, which floated hypnotically underwater for what Charles could remember, was wet and gluing to their forehead and neck now, but not less beautiful.
Charles tried to sit up again, the siren moving backyards as if they were afraid Charles would do something. When Charles saw that there was no strength in his arms still for him to do that, he stopped, only turning on his side and trying to move his legs to be in a comfortable enough position. The whole time, the siren watched curiously.
"Do you speak my language?" Charles tried, voice so rough and weak he almost didn't recognize it. The siren only stared, eyes narrowing at Charles' voice before they moved close again, hands on the edge of the rock as they rested their chin there, staring at Charles, but giving no response. "Right, of course not…"
Charles thought for a moment, staring back at the siren for a while before he had an idea and hoped it would work. He raised his hand, pressing it against his own chest, catching the siren's gaze with the movement.
"Charles," he said, trying to convey he was talking about himself.
He moved his hand again, pointing at the siren's chest and making them stare at Charles' finger then their own chest for a moment, before their bright eyes were on Charles again.
There was no response for a while, and Charles thought that maybe it was a lost cause, until the siren raised their hand from the edge of the rock and touched their own chest.
"E-rik," they said, making a chill run through Charles' body.
He had heard stories before about sirens, how they mimicked human speech and dragged you down to your death. Before this, Charles had never encountered a siren before, but now he understood the horror tales about them.
The siren's voice wasn't human, and yet it sounded like it, an almost perfect copy of what a human voice should sound like, but with the wrong pitch, the wrong tone, barely perceptible if you weren't listening closely. Besides, as they opened their mouth, Charles saw the sharp teeth.
Erik, their name. Either Charles' savior or his doom. Maybe, he thought, both.
Erik's hand moved again, stretching until they were touching Charles' chest, their fingers cold against the fabric of his wet shirt, but their touch gentle.
"Char-les," they said again, Charles' name sounding both incredibly right and completely wrong in Erik's lips.
Their hand retreated, a calm expression on their face, looking proud of themselves for a second. It was almost endearing.
"Yes," Charles nodded as much as he could, face brushing against the hard rock under him. He licked his lips, feeling them salty and dry. "God, how do I even ask this next thing…"
Charles tried waving his hand at the cave, a confused expression on his face, trying to see if it would work as a "Where am I?"
Erik watched him, frowning before mimicking Charles' gesture, clearly uncertain of the meaning. Charles left out a ragged breath, closing his eyes as he tried to think, his mind still fuzzy with everything that happened. When he opened his eyes again, Erik was still staring, waiting for Charles' next move.
His hand touched the rock under him, hitting his palm against the ground three times lightly, just enough movement for Erik to understand this was him talking.
Here.
He waved his arm around slowly again, pointing at the whole cave, Erik's eyes following attently.
Here.
He pressed his hand against his chest again.
Me. Charles.
He stopped, trying to figure out how to gesture a "where". Thankfully, for him, Erik seemed to understand.
They seemed agitated for a second, as if trying to figure out how to say it just like Charles had moments ago, until they seemed to think about something and dived back into the water. Charles moved for a moment, trying to go closer to the pool of water to see if Erik was leaving him behind, but soon they were back with their hands full of what looked like wet sand.
They went back down and came back three more times, bringing sand with them all the times, until they spread it on the ground of the cave, next to Charles, making sure it covered a big surface. They looked at Charles again for a moment, as if they wanted to make sure Charles was looking, and took their finger to the sand, drawing on it.
Charles watched curiously as Erik drew what looked like the surface of the water, or at least Charles guessed the wavy lines they drew meant that, right next to the border of the sand canvas, close to Charles' body. Their hand moved again, going down to the other border and drawing a mound on the sand, as well as a circle right next to the bottom of that mound. After drawing that, Erik moved to touch Charles' chest again, smearing wet sand through his shirt at the touch.
"Char-les," they said in that eerie voice again, right before they circled the drawing they had made.
Their arm gestured around the cave, like Charles had done before.
You're here.
Charles was in an underwater cave.
"Right," he said, slightly breathless as he looked at the drawing, nodding his understanding and seeing a relieved expression on Erik's face as Charles understood their message.
Before Charles could formulate another question, his stomach made a noise. He was hungry.
Erik's eyes moved to Charles' stomach at the noise, body moving back slightly as if taken aback by the strange sound before their eyes were on Charles' again. They seemed to look from Charles' face to his stomach, and Charles really hoped he hadn't somehow offended the siren in any way with his hunger — it wasn't like he could control that.
When Erik dived back into the pool of clear water and went away through the underwater tunnel, Charles thought that maybe that was how he'd die: alone in an underwater cave, where no one would ever find his body and he'd rot away in the middle of the ocean.
He laid back down when Erik didn't come back immediately, accepting his doom but wishing he had drowned after all. It would've been quicker than this, but there was always the option to roll until he fell into the water again so it could happen. It was morbid, but it wasn't like Charles had many options at that moment. His arms still shook by this side, not much strength on them, and his legs… As much as he hoped his legs would magically work again, he was starting to lose that hope.
As he laid there, defeated and wondering the best way to die, he heard the water moving again, and Erik appeared before his eyes once more. This time, however, there was a strange fish between their teeth, clearly already dead and bleeding as Erik bit it. The blood mixed with the salt water, running down Erik's chin and neck until it stained the clear water of the pool. When Erik opened their mouth to release the fish, Charles saw their teeth again, thin and probably sharp as needles.
Erik put the dead fish on the ground next to Charles' body, pushing it more in his direction as they looked at Charles expectantly. It downed on Charles what they wanted him to do, his stomach twisting a little at the sight of the dead fish. He gave Erik a confused look first, trying to see if the siren would give him an answer.
Erik stopped to think again, their brow furrowed in concentration as they had the same problem as Charles to find a way to communicate with the language barrier between them. After a few seconds, Erik touched Charles' chest.
You. Charles.
Charles noticed then that, each time Erik touched him, it was gentle, just like they had held Charles before bringing him there, like Charles could break.
Erik took the fish from the ground again, holding it with both hands, before opening their mouth and pretending to bite, needle sharp teeth making a loud sound as they closed them together.
"Eat," Charles offered, looking at the dead fish again.
"Eat," Erik repeated, their uncanny voice echoing through the cave.
Charles nodded his understanding. Erik smiled at him, placing the fish back next to Charles' body again. Although he was hungry, he still hesitated. Why was Erik even helping him anyway?
With careful movements, Charles moved to erase the drawings on the sand, seeing Erik frown at him and move slightly, like they were agitated again. Charles only gave them a smile, gentle, trying to show them they meant no disrespect by erasing what they had done, and Erik seemed to soften a little at it.
Charles drew the wavy lines Erik had done again, showing the surface of the water, moving his hand down after to draw a small figure under the surface. As he did that, he took his hand to his chest again.
Me. Charles.
Erik seemed to understand.
Charles then drew another figure, a little taller and slightly different on the bottom half than the one he drew of himself. With some difficulty, Charles moved to press his hand to Erik's chest. It was cold, although their skin was soft.
You. Erik.
Charles waved his hand around again, showing the cave around them.
Here. Cave.
"Why?" He said meekly, seeing Erik's eyes lost on him. He needed to find a way to convey the meaning of "why", somehow.
Charles drew a circle around the two figures, drawing a line to show movement. The only thing he could think of was to look at Erik with a confused face, hoping it would be enough for them to understand what he was asking.
Why did you bring me here?
Erik seemed to think for a while about it, but soon they were moving their finger against the sand. Charles only watched curiously as Erik drew something above the water surface, making the wavy lines of the water bigger. It looked like clouds and lightning there.
"Storm," Charles offered, Erik's eyes moving to him as he nodded, probably hoping Charles had the right idea.
"Storm," they repeated, and with each word their voice sounded more natural, as if Charles' brain couldn't pinpoint the things that were wrong with it anymore, like Erik as learning to mold their voice to Charles'.
It would be scary, if Charles didn't find it comfortable, if the way Erik's voice became more solid didn't bring him some kind of joy for hearing it.
Erik then drew more things, and dread hit Charles immediately as he noticed what it was. Around the two figures Charles had already drawn, Erik had made a few more that looked like them, instead of looking like Charles. More sirens.
"There were more of you," Charles said out loud as Erik's eyes observed him.
They erased the circle Charles had made around the two of them carefully, circling only Charles then and moving to circle the other sirens. Once they were done, Erik looked up and raised both hands as if they were holding something, making a biting movement.
"Eat," they offered, and Charles felt himself grow pale.
There were other sirens around, and Erik brought him to the cave so he wouldn't get eaten. But then again, why didn't Erik do it?
Charles licked his lips again, moving his hand to touch Erik's chest again — it was shaking a little more violently than before.
You. Erik.
He made the gesture Erik had done before, completing it with a quiet "Eat", before touching his own chest.
You'll eat me?
Erik's eyes widened, their tail moving a little widely under the water and creating light waves before they shook their head vigorously in a negative answer. Charles felt like he could breathe again for a second.
He gave Erik a confused expression again, trying to draw a question mark on the sand in hopes that Erik would assimilate the two things.
Why?
Charles only stared as he saw what he thought was a flush appear on Erik's face, their cheeks taking a more bluish tone as their eyes looked away from Charles. That, Charles decided, was weird.
Hesitantly, Erik moved to touch Charles' chest again, gentle as all the other times.
You. Charles.
Their fingers then moved to point at their face, at their mouth especifically, as they showed a smile. Their hand then touched their own chest.
You smiled at me.
Charles swallowed thickly, wondering if he hadn't been about to die and had seen Erik there, he would have smiled in delight to see another person — another creature — there. Maybe, in other circumstances, Charles would've simply been siren food after all.
Erik seemed sheepish now after their confession, eyes straying from Charles as if they were expecting judgement. Charles, in return, only smiled a "thank you" like he had done earlier when he was in the water, the same smile that had saved him, not less truthful, if only a bit frightful now. Erik, thankfully, smiled back.
Their brow furrowed then, hand erasing the other drawings and only leaving the figure meant to represent Charles. They circled it, drawing a question mark right beside it, making Charles almost cheer at the fact Erik had caught up on that.
If Charles was right, Erik wanted to know why he was drowning. That would be complicated to explain…
Slowly, Charles started, erasing everything to draw a boat, signaling that it was his boat. He drew two people next, giving himself a Captain's hat while the other had a pistol in their hand. He circled the figure with a hat, touching his own chest to show Erik it was him. Erik looked at Charles' head curiously, probably trying to understand where the hat went.
He circled the other figure then, looking at Erik before he said, "Shaw."
"Shaw," Erik repeated, and in their voice, it sounded eerie.
The next drawings, Charles did as well as he could: Shaw pointing the pistol at Charles. Charles getting hit by a bullet. Charles' legs not working anymore — represented by an X on the drawing's legs that made Erik stir and look at Charles' legs with something akin to worry. Shaw picking Charles up and throwing him from the ship. Shaw now with the hat that belonged to Charles as he left with Charles' boat. Charles underwater, like the first drawing he had made before, as he drowned.
There was a dark expression now in Erik's face, their eyes turning to look at Charles, bright like all the other times Charles had looked at them. Except now, Charles saw something else inside those eyes.
"Shaw," Erik said again, but Charles felt a chill run through his spine at the way their voice revertebrated — barely human now, sounding like Erik had mimicked the sound but not the word properly.
Erik was angry.
When Charles' stomach made a noise again, however, Erik looked at it, eyes gazing at Charles as their expression softened again, before he took the fish again and placed it close enough to Charles' body that the blood soaked the white shirt Charles was wearing. Erik's eyes seemed serious.
"Eat," they offered, no gesture to accompany it, and Charles knew he didn't have much of an option.
Erik had come and gone a few more times, bringing more fish for Charles in case he was still hungry after the first one. Charles had managed to gag only once before he accepted that it was better to eat something if he wanted to try to survive. After the half of the second fish, however, Charles stopped, feeling his stomach start to realize he was eating raw fish.
He cleaned his hands as best as he could in the salt water, managing after a while to pull himself upright and sit down. His hands touched his legs again, sighing at the lack of feeling still. Erik, the whole time, only watched, their eyes curious about Charles' every move.
"I need to get out of here," Charles said to himself, taking his boots off to take a look at his feet. They didn't seem hurt, only wrinkled by the warm water that was inside the boots. He'd need to be careful with his legs now. "I need to find land…"
With a sigh, Charles turned himself to the sand canvas Erik had made before, erasing all the other drawings to start again, seeing Erik coming closer to look at it. He drew the water again, this time drawing a hill that was above the water on a more straight line.
"Land," Charles offered, pointing at the drawing, right before drawing a question mark.
Erik shook their head, erasing the part of the drawing where the land was and completing it with the wavy lines that symbolized the sea. Charles sighed, trying to think of something, considering there was no land nearby. He just needed to leave the ocean.
Quickly, Charles drew a boat on the surface of the water, saying the name out loud for Erik to hear. The siren seemed to think for a moment before looking up at Charles and nodding a yes. There was hope for Charles again.
With shaky hands, Charles drew the cave like Erik had done before, drawing two figures to represent them both at the entrance before drawing a line from them to the boat.
"Can you take me there?" He asked, his voice shaking like his hand was, desperate to get Erik's help one more time.
Erik didn't seem happy about it, a quiet sadness going through their face as they hesitated. Charles thought they would say no, that they'd keep Charles there until he died. Instead, Erik gave Charles a weak nod that took a relieved sound from the man's mouth.
"Thank you," he said, although he knew Erik couldn't really understand. "Oh God, thank you…"
Erik opened their mouth, a quiet noise that sounded almost otherworldly leaving their lips before they closed it again. They seemed to want to say something. Their throat bobbed for a moment as they swallowed, eyes going down to the sand again as they started to erase everything to draw again. Charles watched as they drew two figures — themselves and Charles, together. They looked up at Charles as if they wanted Charles to understand what they meant before looking at the sand again.
Erik then erased Charles' figure and drew a boat on the surface of the water. On their own image, Erik drew a sad frown, making Charles raise his eyebrows.
Alone. Erik was saying they'd be sad when Charles was gone. For a moment, Charles felt for the siren who helped him this far, not want to leave them alone after all.
They then drew Charles again, a line pointing from the boat to their figures, as if Charles was back from it. By their side, Erik drew a question mark, looking up at Charles with a hopeful look.
Will you be back?
"Oh," Charles uttered quietly, looking at the hope in the siren's eyes. He suddenly felt his heart clench as he shook his head in a negative answer slowly.
Erik moved back from the border of the rock Charles was sitting on abruptly, a hurt expression on their face now as Charles widened his eyes and felt panic rise on his body. He had upset Erik.
"I'm sorry, Erik, I can't come back," he raised his hands, knowing the siren couldn't understand his words, but he just couldn't stay silent. "You- You are incredible, bur I can't even swim properly right now. I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back-"
Charles stopped as Erik opened their mouth, a noise nothing like a human's voice leaving their lips as their teeth were bared. Even so, even with the strange and deafening noise, Charles could only see how their eyes looked hurt.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled again. Erik, in return, closed their mouth and looked away, grunting for a moment before they dived and disappeared in barely a second through the tunnel of the cave, swimming faster than anything that Charles had ever seen and leaving Charles alone.
Erik came back to the cave after what felt like hours for Charles. His breathing was ragged now as the pain on his back got worse, the wound left by Shaw seemingly getting worse and worse. Charles knew that, if he didn't leave there soon, he'd either die from thirst or from an infection. What a way to go…
The water moved on the pool next to where Charles laid, but this time he had his back to it, not looking at Erik as they probably broke the surface of the water. He thought about turning around, but as he moved his body, he felt the pain again at his lower back.
A hand touched his shoulder gently — always gently —, right before a voice sounded behind him.
"Char-les," he heard Erik say, a softness to that uncanny voice that made Charles relax almost immediately.
Maybe that was how sirens got their prey, by speaking this softly, by luring them to turn around and stare at them again, despite the pain.
On Erik's face, he saw a guilty expression, right before their hands pulled Charles' body to drag him to the edge of the pool, almost on the water now. Charles only allowed them, pushing back a whine as he felt his body being dragged against the rough surface of the rock. Once he was close to them, Erik's hand brushed a strand of hair from Charles' forehead, eyes shining down at the man with something like resignation in their shine.
"Charles," they said, the name now a whisper, their voice almost too human, soft and careful. It felt like music to Charles' ears.
"Erik," Charles offered back, just as quietly.
"Boat," they raised their eyebrows, giving Charles a small smile, although they still seemed sad, so sad. "Charles. Boat."
Charles smiled at the siren, chuckling quietly at the way they seemed to be talking to a child, although Charles wondered if Erik even knew what a child was. He took the siren's hand then, placing a kiss to their knuckles and watching a quiet curious look in Erik's eyes as they blushed like they had done before, a blue hue painting their cheeks.
"Thank you," Charles said, although there was nothing he could do to express what that meant.
After a few seconds, Erik took Charles' hand as well, taking it to their lips with a small frown on their brow now. The kiss they placed there was soft, uncertain, like the siren had never done that before.
"Thank you," they repeated Charles' words, making Charles smile, a warmth filling his chest. He knew then that that creature, Erik, would never leave his mind.
If he made it back to Raven, and he hoped he would, he'd have to tell her of the siren who saved him because of a smile. The same one who seemed to be making it harder for Charles want to leave.
With a quiet look, Erik started pulling Charles gently into the water, until all that kept Charles afloat were Erik's arms around him. His legs felt weightless again as he floated there in that small pool with Erik.
They seemed to want to explain something, lips parting and closing multiple times, before they carefully raised one of their hands and pintched Charles' nose, cutting off his breathing, right before releasing it.
Hold your breath.
Charles nodded, taking a few deep breaths before he pulled the most air he could into his lungs and closed his mouth. Erik pulled him down immediately, their heads now just below the water surface.
There, illuminated by the fluerescent rocks of the cave, with their hair flowing in the water like the first time Charles had seen them, Erik looked gorgeous, bright eyes looking at Charles as if they thought the same thing. Charles gave them a smile, making Erik smile back as they put their face next to Charles'.
As their noses touched, eyes staring straight into one another, Charles wished he could stay.
Erik's hand went to the back of Charles' head, pulling him close until they had Charles on an embrace, Charles' head resting nicely against Erik's collarbones, held there by Erik's gentle hold. After a second, they were moving, leaving the light of the cave to the darkness of the ocean. At first, they went quick, the rush of the water filling Charles' ears, until they slowed down and slowly went up, up, up- until the dark waters turned clearer.
It was night when Charles had been thrown off his ship and the storm hit. It seemed like night and storm were long gone already now as he saw the light of the sun breaking the surface of the water.
When they reached the surface, Charles took a deep breath, filling his lungs again as he felt the sunlight hit his skin, warming him up. Erik still held him tightly, making sure Charles wouldn't sink, while Charles held Erik's shoulders in return.
In the distance, Charles was able to see a ship approaching. His salvation — or his second one now. He looked at Erik again, seeing the siren watching him as they kept both of them on the surface, where Charles could breathe.
He'd never see Erik again.
With that in mind, Charles sighed, his hands leaving Erik's shoulders to touch their face, feeling their soft skin under his fingertips and the way their white hair felt against his hands — beautiful, lovely. As he pressed a kiss to Erik's lips, Erik only watched in wonder.
"Thank you," Erik said, probably assimilating a kiss to those words now. Charles smiled.
"Thank you, Erik."
Erik mimicked the kiss, pressing one to Charles' lips before moving him, so Charles was on their back now, holding tightly to their neck as they held Charles' legs around their waist.
They swam with Charles on their back next to the boat, looking up at the wooden thing with a serious look before they opened their mouth, letting out the sounds that formed their voice, loud and inhuman again — they were drawing the attention of the ship's crew.
Quickly, Erik turned to Charles, a clear goodbye in their eyes before they leaned closer again, their noses touching one last time before they sunk, only Charles now at the surface.
For a moment, Charles panicked thinking he'd drown now, without his legs or Erik to help him stay above water, until he noticed hands holding him steady — Erik was still there, keeping him safely on the surface. Charles could cry at that moment, realizing now that he would survive, and he owned everything to that siren that was still making sure he'd be safe.
Charles screamed for help when the first crewmate of the ship looked overboard, probably hearing Erik's voice and finding it weird. The crewmate screamed something to the people on the ship as Charles flailed his arms around. Erik's hands were still there, holding him up, until the first man jumped from the ship to the water.
He felt the fingers letting go of him, moving his arms as much as he could to not sink and holding back the desire to look back, to see if he'd still he able to see Erik there, somewhere near. When his arms felt tired and he almost sank, the man reached him, holding him as he told Charles to hold on.
"My legs," Charles panted, quickly, so the man would know. "I can't move my legs."
"It's alright, we'll get you up there."
When he looked around himself, looking down at the deep waters, Erik was nowhere to be seen.
The night was cold on the ship as he sat on the upper deck with another man — Armando, the man who had saved him and brought him on the ship he was now. His eyes were on the dark waters, as they had been for the past nights. They were almost at port, where Charles would be able to see Raven again after thinking he wouldn't anymore, but he kept looking down, as if he'd be able to see those eyes shining just bellow the water, looking back at him.
As the wind blew on his ears, Charles barely heard Armando's voice.
"You always look like you're looking for something in the ocean, Xavier…"
Charles smiled a bit, shrugging slightly, the blanket over his shoulders almost falling with the movement.
"Left something down there," Charles whispered, the wind taking his voice to Armando's ears, who tilted his head to the side with curiosity.
"What did you leave?"
"Well, my boots," Charles tsked, making Armando frown. "And someone who wanted me to stay..."
Armando seemed worried, but didn't try to ask more questions, nodding solemnly. He knew Charles had stayed far too long on the water, although he couldn't imagine just how long, and knew as well of the riot that made Charles lose his ship and the feeling on his legs, which he guessed were taking a toll on the once pirate captain.
They stayed silent after that as Charles' eyes roamed the water, and he knew then and there that he'd try to go back someday, even if he had said he wouldn't.
He guessed the legends were true then, about the sirens and their power. There was no song being sang, but he wanted to go back and drown if it meant Erik would be there to carry him again.