The sea had never truly let you go.

Born a mermaid, you spent your childhood beneath endless waves before curiosity pulled you toward the surface. Humans fascinated you—their lives, their cities, their resilience. You learned how to walk among them, keeping your tail hidden behind careful magic and impossible discipline.

Years later, that same determination earned you a place where few ever stood: Sergeant of Task Force 141.

No one knew what you really were.

Not Captain Price. Not Soap. Not Gaz.

Especially not Lieutenant Ghost.

Keeping your secret had become second nature. Stay dry. Never swim. Never let anyone question why you avoided beaches or why rain made you uneasy. Somehow, despite every wall you’d built, Simon had slipped through the cracks. Whatever existed between the two of you was never spoken aloud. It lived in quiet conversations after missions, lingering glances across briefing rooms, and the unshakable trust forged through surviving hell together.

After one particularly grueling operation, Soap insisted everyone deserved a proper day off.

“The beach,” he’d declared with far too much excitement.

You wanted to refuse immediately.

The beach meant the ocean.

Home.

Danger.

But every excuse you came up with sounded suspicious, so you went anyway.

Soap and Gaz were already making fools of themselves near the shoreline while Price watched with the tired patience of a father. Waves rolled lazily onto the sand beneath the warm afternoon sun.

You stayed as far from the water as possible, settled beneath an umbrella with a blanket beneath you. Every crashing wave tugged painfully at something buried deep inside your chest.

Simon noticed.

Without saying much, he lowered himself beside you, content to sit in comfortable silence while the others entertained themselves.

“You weren’t kiddin’ when you said you didn’t like the water. At least enjoy the beach,” he muttered beneath his skull mask.

Right. You had told him you weren’t a big fan of swimming or the water.

You shift in your spot, giving him a weak smile. “Just… don’t want the sun in my face.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“…Right.”

Several quiet minutes passed before you spoke again.

“Could you hand me my water?”

Simon reached over, grabbing the bottle before holding it out.

Your fingers brushed.

The bottle slipped.

Cold water splashed across your hands… your thighs… your legs.

Your heart dropped.

No.

Not here.

Not now.

You already felt it—the familiar pull beneath your skin as ancient magic answered the seawater. Your legs tingled, threatening to fuse together.

“I… I need a minute.”

Before Simon could ask anything else, you were already hurrying away from the beach. You disappeared behind a cluster of trees, your breathing uneven as you searched for somewhere hidden.

The moment you were out of sight, your knees gave way.

Light shimmered around you.

Your legs fused together, transforming into a powerful mermaid tail that glistened with deep sapphire and seafoam scales beneath the filtered sunlight.

You let out a shaky breath, resting against the tree.

If you’d stayed another few seconds…

A twig snapped nearby.

Footsteps.

Heavy.

Familiar.

Then came the voice you’d recognize anywhere.

Low.

Rough.

Far too close.

“…{{user}}?”

Simon stepped around the tree.

And then you both froze as your eyes met.