He first became aware of voices. There was a low murmuring coming from somewhere near him. He kept his eyes closed feigning sleep.

His head hurt and his mouth felt dry. He tried to move and found it impossible. Every part of his body felt agonizingly heavy. His mind felt foggy. And he seemed to be tied tightly to a very uncomfortable chair. But he thought, maybe if he continued to act like he was asleep they'd continue to ignore him.

Ronan heard the familiar voice of the fisherman. That's right, that's why he was in this mess in the first place. The fisherman. He went to see him. To find out what the man knew about him. And the man had… taken him hostage? How was he going to get out of this one? He never should have came. The fisherman yelled excitedly, "I'm telling you Paul, he's one of them!" Ronan felt his stomach churn.

The other man, Paul, answered skeptically, "You've said that before and every time you've been wrong."

"Trust me on this. Just put him in the tank," the fisherman was doing his best to convince the other. Ronan hoped the guy didn't listen to the crazy man.

Then to his relief the other answered, "And watch him drown? No thanks."

"Paul, he'll be fine. He's a mer!" the fisherman whined in exasperation. Ronan felt sick. There was that word again. And the fisherman had finally told him at least part of what he knew. But Ronan had already been told that much by someone much less dangerous and more sane than this man. And what had he done? Shocked him and proceed to self destruct in panic. He guessed he had realized that he was a mer the moment it left Tiburon's mouth. It just made sense, but… was it so wrong to want to hear the truth from your family. To want to know more about it from someone who was supposed to love you, and have you best interests at heart?

He still didn't know why he went to the fisherman's house. He should have gone back to Tiburon. Or… hell, he probably could have asked Fisk. That spunky little blabbermouth would have told him what he wanted to know, and more. But, he was just so, angry, so hurt that his mother wouldn't tell him the truth that he might have overreacted a little.

And then Paul said the words that would ultimately seal Ronan's fate. Such a simple phrase, really. "Prove it," Ronan imagined him standing there stubbornly crossing his arms.

"Fine," the fisherman huffed. He stomped around for a few minutes and Ronan heard him getting closer. His arm was grasped roughly and water was poured over it. It felt so good Ronan almost sighed in relief.

"And what was that supposed to do?" Paul sounded like he was having a bit of an attitude problem.

"Just watch," the fisherman said confidently.

And then Ronan felt it. His arm started to itch and he knew that scales were beginning to appear on his arm. Oh god, this isn't good.

"Holy shit," Paul spoke in hushed awe. The fisherman just laughed smugly in response.

Then Paul was talking. To someone else. "Yeah, it's the real deal this time," a pause. Ronan realized he must be talking on the phone. "I've seen it with my own eyes. Full-fledged mer. Young. Fit. Yeah. See you then," he hung up the phone.

Then talking to the fisherman, Paul announced, "They'll be here in four hours."

"What the fuck, Paul. You know this kid's not gonna be a full-fledged mer in four hours!"

"No, actually, I did not know that," Paul said. Ronan thought he heard the man mutter asshole under his breath, and he was inclined to agree with him.

There was silence for a while, then, "You know what? I actually have a solution for this," the fisherman told Paul.

"Oh really, enlighten me," Paul said his voice dry and droll.

"The serum."

"I'm sorry, I must have spaced out there for a second. I thought you said 'the serum.'" Ronan did not like the way this was going. It took everything in him not to let them know he was awake.

"I did," the fisherman confirmed.

"But that hasn't been tested sufficiently," Paul argued.

"But, it doesn't do anything to humans. There's no way something could go wrong. It's a win/win for us Paul. Who cares if the mer dies? Then you can just dissect him instead of having a live specimen."

That was too much for Ronan. He gasped. Shit.

"Hey, I think he's awake," Paul whispered to his accomplice.

"Stop pretending you're asleep, fuckin' fish," the fisherman growled slapping Ronan across the face.

Ronan grunted in pain and slowly opened his eyes. It was difficult to focus, but he did his best to glare at the fisherman. God, he felt dizzy. It was hard to keep his eyes open. "How much sedative did you give him? He still looks a little out of it," Paul commented.

"Enough," was the gruff reply.

Ronan tried to focus his eyes on Paul. The guy was talking to him "…give you a little injection now… won't hurt you, but you might feel a slight pinch on your upper arm." Paul lightly put his hand on Ronan's upper arm.

Ronan let out a slurred, "No," and tried weakly to move himself away from the syringe that was slowly coming closer. The needle pierced his skin. The fluid was injected into his arm.

                                                      ~ODW~

"This is ridiculous Becca!" a very frustrated and worried John raked a hand through his hair. "Something's obviously happened to him. He wouldn't be gone for this long without at least contacting us," he paced quickly back and forth in their hotel room.

Then, seemingly deciding something, he headed to the door. "Where are you going?" Rebecca asked startled.

"I'm gonna file a missing persons report and then go around town looking for him."

"I'll go with you," Rebecca practically jumped at the chance of doing something to help.

"No," John ordered. He needed to be alone right now to try to reign in his panic. He didn't want to take out his frustration on someone he cared about. Seeing the hurt look on his wife's face he tried again, "No, you should stay here."

Anger surged through Rebecca hot and swift. "Listen here, if you think I'm gonna sit here and wait while you're out there trying to find our son, you have another thing coming!"

Holding up appeasing hands John explained further. "I know. I want you to go to the beach and look for him while I cover the streets."

"You think he'll be at the beach?" Rebecca asked hope in her voice.

John allowed himself a small smile. "I don't call him sea monkey for nothing," and then he was out the door.

Rebecca sighed and looked around the hotel room. Fisk was in his bowl watching her with interest. "I wish I could understand you," she told the fish, "I bet you know where Ronan is." She could have sworn she saw the fish nod.

A few minutes later she was out the door and on her way to the beach. She didn't see anyone just from doing a quick glance around. But she wasn't going to give up. Ronan was fond of swimming in the ocean. She had seen him slicing through the waves ever since the disastrous aquarium trip.

She began looking in the water calling his name. "Ronan!"

She walked down the coast. "Ronan!"

She walked up and down the beach several times. Looking on land. In the water for a bobbing head. Listening for splashes or the sound of his voice. She yelled herself hoarse. When Rebecca was about to give up she heard a splash in the waves. "Ronan?" she called scarcely able to hope that it might be him.

"No," came a strong reply. What little hope Rebecca gathered died when that person spoke. She held back a sob and turned to run off the beach. She couldn't do this. She wasn't strong enough.

"Wait," the man commanded. Rebecca stopped and turned to the strange man in the water. "I'll help you find him."

"And how are you going to do that?" she asked quietly scarcely able to believe his words.

"I can sense him," the man said with total confidence in his absurd proclamation. Rebecca squinted her eyes and moved closer to the man. She thought she saw… Yes, there it was. A tail. Brownish-red in color and strangely shark-like. When the waves were at their lowest point she could just make it out.

"You're a mer."

"I'm a mer," the man agreed.

"How will you be able to help if you're stuck in the water?" Rebecca asked. Ronan wasn't in the water. For some reason she was sure of that after seeing this mer. If he was in the water he'd be safe. And he would have let them know. Maybe… she had made him pretty angry. But Ronan was on land and land was not an easy place for a fish to live.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be a two-legged like you."

Rebecca watched in fascination as the water around the mer began to bubble. He hissed in pain and clawed at the water in front of him. He pulled himself to shore and Rebecca noticed he was now sporting a pair of legs and nestled between those legs was a very big… ahem…

He bent over in the sand, gasping for breath and Rebecca watched the somewhat familiar scene of water rushing to leave the mer's lungs.

Tiburon made one last gagging sound and scrambled to his feet. "Man that was unpleasant," he laughed.

"Uh huh," Rebecca said dragging her eyes up to meet the man's face.

"Come on, we need to get to Ronan. I can feel him."

Rebecca stood firmly in place.

"Come on! I'll lead you to him," the mer insisted.

"That's great," Rebecca exclaimed, "but first…" she trailed off as her gaze traveled south again. God that thing was distracting!

The mer threw his hands up in exasperation, tired of her stalling. "What? What could be more important than finding your son?"

Rebecca's face heated up. Well… it wasn't more important than finding Ronan but… "We need to find you some pants first."