Title: Nymph Meets Havock

Paring: Alex Summers X Reader

Warnings: childhood abuse? not much. it's okay

Spoilers: nONE!

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The earliest memory someone has is often fondly kept in their mind; going to the park with their babysitter, or making chocolate birthday cake with an older sister. But, sadly, for you, your earliest memory wasn't something fond and warm and fuzzy. It was something very dark, and horrible, and you didn't like to think about it, thank you very much. It wasn't like you knew anyone who would pester you about it; you were pretty much homeless. But not like others...you lived in a riverbank, somewhere upriver near the mountains.

Away from the people who had dumped you there as a child.

Away from the people who screamed at the sight of you.

You thought you weren't that terrible; all that was different about you was the scales, and the fact that you couldn't be drowned. 

The reason you knew you were different was all the people who would come into your area, camping throughout the seasons. None of them had scales like the fish you lived with. Their hands were thin, fingers long and separated. They had no webbing. But, you knew not to approach them. You already knew how your parents acted. You didn't want anyone to hurt you. You were like a river hermit. A nymph. 

But today was not like all those other days. Today, there were people, people who had normal looking bodies and voices and - they were coming toward you. But unlike other people, they wore yellow, and they were fighting, and they were loud. Noisy. Scary. 

"Alex? Where's Alex?" A blue-haired man called out. "Damn it, Alex!"

From your hiding spot, you see a young man, falling. He is cascading, his short hair whipping around his face in a frenzy you are not accustomed to seeing. But in the seconds you watch him before he hits the water, your heart jumps, swells, brimming with a rush of emotion, unlike you'd ever felt for anyone ever before. And then, he goes under. Suddenly, you abandon your vantage point, and dive on after the man. 

Under water, you watch his body grow limp, sinking, his hair flowing around him like an anemone. At once, you gather all the strength you can muster, and drag the body of the handsome faced man to the surface of the river, to the bank where he can touch the riverbed.

At once, he splutters, water trickling through his lips, eyes opening. For a moment, you have forgotten that your neck has gills, your fingers webbed, ears, neck and shoulders plated in scales. You await his cry for help from the fellow yellow-dressed team mates, but it does not come.

"Thanks," he whispers.

For a moment, you wonder if he is to ask you for your name, but his hesitance falls back on something else. The water is warm, near his chest, and slowly, you release his arm, and place it on the land.

"You are welcome," you reply, and just like all the people you see come visit the camp sites, you lean forward, and place a small kiss to his cheek. "Your blue friend is looking for you."

He glances away, up to the chaos. "Yeah, he doesn't like me that much. I'm Alex, what's your -," he looks back, but the river water before him is barren. You have slipped away, back to your vantage point. You cannot live in Alex's world. You're strange, you're not like him.

Even if he did look beautiful.

When you are found by a man in a wheelchair, aided by a young blonde woman, you are surprised. Even more so when he speaks to you inside your mind, and she can change how she looks. For a moment, you wish you could change your appearance, and be rid of the scales. But that moment passes, because these people are like you. They are different in plain sight.

When their flying car (Charles called it an aeroplane) reaches its destination, you are escorted to a room. It has a bed, and a bathroom adjoining, and at the sight of it, you felt tears fall. Your first proper bed. Inside the closet were clothes, like what they wore. Your first proper outfits.

They left you to sleep, and find peace by yourself. But the next morning, after being instructed to breakfast, and your first class (you weren't sure how they knew you weren't literate) you see a familiar face.

The face of the pretty boy you had saved, from ages ago.

Alex.

At once, you turn around, facing the door, your back in the scratchy shirt facing him. Your mind races, thinking all these thoughts at once, glad the teacher for the lesson hadn't already called on you to make a spectacle of you. You already were a spectacle. Someone already asked about the 'fish girl' as they walked past you. 

There's a hand on your shoulder. 

"Hey, I'm Alex, we met some time ago, in a river," his smile is kind, warm. Not like the mouth of the people you remember in your first memory. It's nice. A good feeling. "I didn't catch your name..."

"______," you whisper. "I've never been to school before."

His face softens, and hand drops to gather yours in his. "Come on, ______, there's a spare seat beside me, I'll help you through it. It's only history, this lesson, I think you might like it." he walks through the isle of desks, the other students paying more attention to their phones or their margin doodles than your appearance. "Plus, the teacher is my brother, so he's totally cool. Trust me."

By the end of the day, you are exhausted. But there's a feeling in your veins, something like fire or an emotion you hadn't felt before that kept you going. It's five o'clock, and you and Alex walk back to your private room. Private, because of the large tank of water you have to hydrate within. 

At the door to your room, he pauses. "______," he doesn't look into your eyes. At first, you can't help but feel a lot of things - that you've done something wrong, or he wants to hurt you, or there's something he has to say that is unpleasant - but these anxieties wash over you in an instant. Most likely because of the way Alex's face has heated up in a rosy blush. "I - I know we've only known each other for a day and a bit...but..." his face is very red by now.

You place a hand on his shoulder, like he did in the classroom. "What is wrong?" you whisper.

His voice is low, when answering. "Is it alright if...I kiss you? I don't do this a lot, and you're really beautiful, and..."

You interrupt his words, placing your mouth to his, hands cradling his head like you've seen before. His stature melts into your form, and at once, you feel your heart race and your mind race, but for the first time, maybe, this will be a good memory. A lovely feeling to revisit. 

"Like that?" you whisper, breaking away.

Alex is breathless, "Exactly like that."