Chapter Text
It involves a complicated series of pool switches that basically boil down to this: they'll make the Betadine bath in the pool Jean is currently in while Cody scrubs and refills the other pool. Afterwards, Jean will switch to the newly cleaned pool, and Cody and Jeremy will work together to drain and scrub the Betadine-filled pool. They'll refill the second pool, switch Jean back so the filters can deal with any of the Betadine or blood that escaped through the guillotine gate, and then Jean will eat his lunch alone while Jeremy catches Rhemann up in the staff room. Jean seems panicked by the prospect of being left alone, until Jeremy offers to give him a walkie-talkie and show him how to use it. They aren't fully waterproof, just water resistant, so it will have to live on the side of the pool, but it's a hell of a lot better than nothing. Jean relaxes at the reassurance that they won't leave him unable to contact Jeremy, and watches curiously while they prepare the huge jug of Betadine to be dumped into the water.
He flinches only slightly at the splash the Betadine makes when being poured in, enough needed to raise the water level several inches. However, when the soothing and cooling effects of the gentle antiseptic start to set in, he relaxes into the water with a little hum, floating belly-up with most of his body just below the surface of the water. He allows the mixture to flow over his gills, flaring his gill slits gently to work it through the tissues on his neck without breathing any of it in. He's so beautiful he hurts to look at.
Jeremy and Ashley compare notes quietly next to the pool, and she approves his decision regarding water temperature. She offers to head to the control room before going back to her office to make the change for him, and Jeremy takes her up on it with a grateful smile, allowing one more task to be taken off his plate. Dr. Young squeezes his shoulder before she heads out, nodding to Jean.
"Your bond with him is special. Try not to get caught up in the semantics of everything. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to figure out the ethics of it, when what really matters is how he feels about it. Don't take more control away from him. He's had a lifetime of other people making his choices for him," she tells him, with a sympathetic little smile on her face. Jeremy just smiles back, a bit helplessly, before waving goodbye to her as she leaves.
He helps Cody finish refilling the emptied pool, and measures out the Aquarium's salt mixture carefully. There's ten minutes left for Jean to soak, so Jeremy sends Cody out to the enrichment office with a list of things to grab for Jean to have once everything is clean, officially sick of leaving him in a bare, vinyl-lined concrete hole even if it is technically the quarantine protocol. The list includes a walkie-talkie, a fake stone with compartments in it that is usually a slow feeder puzzle but Jeremy figures Jean can use for storing items, a small container full of shell fragments for Jean to play with, and a floating dog toy in case Jean prefers it for latching onto while he sleeps. He doesn't want to dehumanize or infantilize him, but this is all Jeremy has to work with for now. He vows to show Jean the waterproof section of Amazon at some point and buy him whatever he wants, like a shirt or maybe a comb. He selfishly doesn't want to consider the possibility of Jean wearing clothes, but knows that ultimately he will do anything to help Jean be comfortable, even help him hide his gorgeous chest.
Jean has drifted over to where Jeremy stands within a few inches of the edge of his pool, and he reaches a gentle hand above the water, tapping Jeremy's ankle bone with a single claw. Jeremy looks down at him fondly, and sits, careful to keep his feet out of the water for now. Betadine won't be bad for him, but he doesn't want to damage the wetsuit, and he isn't sure how safe it is for synthetic fabrics.
"What's up, Jean?" He asks quietly. Jean flashes his teeth.
"I just wanted to touch you," he says, mischief in his eyes. Jeremy smiles and reaches a hand out, letting Jean link their fingers together. Abruptly, Jean starts speaking again.
"If I was at home, I would probably have taken a partner by now. We do not always mate for life, but like humans, we dream of it. We tend to have a few serious relationships throughout our lives. In a perfect world, we would only ever have one. Our-" he breaks off into a series of frustrated clicks and whistles, clearing annoyed with being unable to find a suitable translation of the word he's using. He tries again in French.
"Une âme sœur," he says, gazing up at Jeremy. Jeremy just laughs weakly, rubbing his thumb over the pronounced webbing between Jean's fingers. It's not quite enough to read as inhuman, but certainly more than an average person has, placing Jean's hands firmly within the uncanny valley. Jeremy probably shouldn't find that attractive, but he does.
"I don't speak French either, I'm afraid. Your file doesn't say where you learned it, but you have a French accent. Can I ask why?" Jeremy continues to play with Jean's hands, avoiding eye contact as much as he can get away with. He doesn't know why Jean has brought up relationships, and it's making Jeremy's stupid heart flutter hopefully.
"I grew up speaking it. We all learned Medimer and French growing up, so we could communicate with the local fisherman. Some other families did Spanish, or Sicilian if they were further east. I consider myself to have two, ah, mother tongues. I apologize for my accent; I have not had much opportunity until now to practice my English," Jean explains, but Jeremy is caught up on a detail.
"Medimer? What's that?"
"What mers in the Mediterranean use to communicate. We do not all speak the same tongue, that would be ridiculous. There are mers who live near Antarctica and mers who spend much of the year north of Greenland. We can not all understand each other," to his credit, Jean doesn't say any of this like Jeremy is stupid, which he appreciates. Jeremy doesn't think any current literature on mer behavior is aware of the fact that there are multiple mer languages, and he would know. He's read all four currently published papers on the subject, and a fifth paper that is still under review.
"How many languages do you speak?" Jeremy asks, already a little awed at Jean's intelligence. To think Jeremy ever doubted that mers were on the same level as humans.
"Five, depending on what you consider a language. French, English, Japanese, Medimer, and a mishmash used to communicate in the Nest. It was most similar to Namer, with small pieces of every other mer tongue under the sun thrown in. If that does not count, I speak four," he says, like it's not an impressive feat, and simply an expectation placed on him.
"Five. That's definitely five," Jeremy says. As he confirms it, the timer on his phone starts to ring, and he pulls the phone out of it's waterproof pouch to turn it off. Cody hasn't returned yet, but Jeremy figures he can move Jean without their help, and get going on the next drain while they wait for Cody's arrival. Jean lets go of his hand reluctantly, and swims over by the gate, waiting to be let through. Jeremy wonders if it would be possible to jerry-rig the opening mechanism so Jean can open it himself, to make the remainder of his stay in quarantine more comfortable. In theory, he has at least another twelve days of living in these pools, and he shouldn't have to ask someone for help every time he needs to piss.
Jeremy lets him through and re-secures the gate just as Cody walks into the room, arms laden with goodies. They leave everything on the ground well away from the water, not wanting to contaminate anything before the water change is finished, and wave hello to Jeremy before offering Jean a tentative wave. Jean doesn't wave back, but some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he's stopped eyeing Cody like a potential threat.
Jeremy will take the win.
Cody and Jeremy work in quick, practiced silence for the rest of the pool cleaning. This is probably more animal care attendant work than veterinary assistant work, but Jeremy doesn't know anybody on the constantly rotating cast of animal care attendants that well, and he needs someone he trusts for this. By the time they're done, almost an hour of sweating and cursing later, Jean is to the point of holding brief eye contact with Cody, and isn't flinching away from their sudden movements. Jean has switched pools yet again, back to the pool he was in when Jeremy arrived at the Aquarium this morning.
Cody waves to them both before heading off on their break, leaving the walkie-talkie discussion up to Jeremy, and to the shock of all parties, Jean waves back. Cody smiles slightly to themself, but doesn't make a big deal out of it, choosing instead to continue walking away. Jeremy thinks that is probably the right call.
Jeremy grabs the extra walkie-talkie and sits on the edge of Jean's now-Betadineless pool, along with the enrichment items. Jean eyes everything curiously but keeps his attention on Jeremy obediently.
"This is a walkie-talkie. Everyone at the Aquarium has one, and we use them to radio each other. I'll set this one up so you're on the main frequency, so everyone can hear your calls, including me. To make a call, press this button down. Always start a call by introducing yourself, so say 'this is Jean', and always end a call with 'over'. When you're done speaking, you have to remember to let go of the button. You can only hear the channel if you aren't holding down the button. When the other person says 'over', you can hold the button down to respond. You'll hear transmissions over it throughout the day, if you leave it on, but you can ignore those - this is a tool for you to ask for help, not a tool we will use to ask you for things. Someone will always come find you if we spot something on the cameras you need to stop doing, or anything like that," Jeremy is probably rambling, but Jean looks sort of sad and sort of confused, and Jeremy really wants to say the magic words to make that look disappear.
"I won't speak to anyone other than you. I do not trust them to leave me unpunished," Jean says eventually, looking off into the middle distance over Jeremy's shoulder.
"Oh, Jean, nobody is going to punish you here. Okay. Let me think," Jeremy fiddles with the walkie-talkie absently, trying to decode a solution that doesn't involve buying Jean a diver's cellphone with money that Jeremy doesn't really have since he stopped talking to his mother and step-father.
"What if you think about it like talking to me while other people are in the room? You've spoken to me before in front of other people, so we know you can do that. The walkie-talkie is like a bigger version of that," Jeremy offers. Jean hums a little bit, tilting his head back and forth.
"I will not be punished? For doing this," Jean checks, and Jeremy nods happily at him. He has Jean practice holding down the button to speak and letting it go when he's done with the radio turned off, and then turns it on, showing Jean the power button. Because nobody will use the walkie-talkie to contact Jean, only the other way around, Jeremy advises Jean to leave it off when he's not using it to save the battery, and Jean agrees. Jeremy tucks it within Jean's reach on top the filter cover, hoping it's contrast with the white plastic will save it from getting stepped on, and turns to show Jean the other items Cody brought.
Jean is already poking at the dog toy, adorably. It's a large red rubber bone that should float in the water, and Jean is dragging two of his claws back and forth over the edge, causing textured marks to appear on the material. Jeremy reaches over to press it a little closer to him, and Jean grabs it tentatively, squeezing it to feel the way it bounces back under his grip. Just as Jeremy is about to explain what it is and what he thought Jean might use it for, Laila knocks on the entryway of the room, startling both Jeremy and Jean.
"I have a lunch delivery!" She announces, walking the cart backwards into the room without waiting for a response to her knock. Jean darts under the water immediately, scared as sin of the noise the cart makes over the concrete floor. He's trying to hide, but he can't really manage to get out of view in his featureless pit, and he ends up pressed to the side of the pool directly underneath Jeremy's dangling feet, shielding his abdominal organs with his tail, and shielding his tail with his arms as best he can.
"Laila, stop!" Jeremy hisses, and she freezes, confused.
"The cart is loud and stressful. Please pull the cooler off and carry it the rest of the way. Feed him his lunch by putting it on the freezer lid and leaving the lid at the edge of the pool, if you can. I know you don't have time to hand feed him, but we're not going to be dumping it in the pool to fester. I'll figure out a longer term solution later. Thank you," he says brusquely, trying not to make a big deal out of Jean's fear of the cart. Laila has known him long enough to catch that there are things he isn't saying, but she senses that now isn't the time to ask, and pries the cooler off the cart to carry it the remaining twelve feet to the pool. She ignores Jean entirely, which Jeremy is grateful for, and squeezes Jeremy's shoulder before she heads out. He smiles at her and mouths 'we'll talk later', she nods, and then she removes the cart from the room much more quietly than she entered, leaving the empty cooler and squid-filled cooler lid behind.
A full minute after the sounds of the cart have faded down the hallway, Jean emerges from the water, looking sheepish.
"I am sorry I overreacted. That was inappropriate of me," he says, looking anywhere but at Jeremy.
"I don't think that was an overreaction. I would have panicked too," Jeremy says gently. He offers Jean one of the pieces of squid, and Jean takes it with a slight slump to his shoulders, body relaxing in increments.
"I'm going to eat lunch with my boss today, okay? I need to catch up with some human stuff, and get in touch with Dr. Dobson about booking you a session with her. I'll be back in no more than forty-five minutes. And you have the walkie-talkie if you need me. If you radio for me I'll be at your side within five minutes. Eat up," Jeremy murmurs, gently stroking over Jean's hair, still beautiful even when it's plastered to his head with saltwater. He had wrinkled his nose slightly at the mention of Dr. Dobson, but his face relaxes again at Jeremy's soothing touches.
"Will you be upset if I use the walkie-talkie?" Jean asks after practically inhaling his piece of squid.
"No, Jean, not at all," Jeremy promises, and pulls himself to standing, leaving Jean to his lunch.