Cold Water

“So, Cal messaged to ask where I was goin’ tonight and I said I’d be in my room,” Bain says when he comes in from the hall, his tone mild.

“But you are here,” Knauss replies, swimming to greet him. He doesn’t go to the stairs like Knauss expects him to.

“Yeah, that’s what he said too. I think he’s going to stop by…” Bain trails off, licking his lips and glancing towards the couch. He’s twitchy, and Knauss isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. It’s been a long time since the boss has deemed to pay him a visit, the human staff no longer tries to coax him out when they’re here.

He almost wonders if Bain is the reason for this, or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Stop by?” Knauss repeats.

“You know, come visit. Tonight. Maybe,” Bain gets more twitchy the more he speaks before he starts pacing, muttering, “He ain’t never cared before what I was doin’. I ain’t been doing nothing lately, he ain’t got no reason to suspect.” Knauss follows along as far as his tank will allow.

“What does that mean?” he asks, it’s not an issue if Cal comes tonight. It’s unfortunate that he will lose time swimming, but he will just stay in his den and allow the human to scream like he always does before leaving.

“It don’t mean nothing, just, you should stay in the cave thing tonight. I can’t stay,” Bain replies, stiffening when Knauss hears a buzz and pulling out his cell phone.

Knauss lingers for a moment before returning to his den.

*

The next evening Bain doesn’t return. His visits grow more sporadic and whenever Knauss presses him for information the human is tight lipped, waving his questions off with cagey responses and offering food as an apology.

It’s a poor excuse but Knauss doesn’t know what else to do but accept it.

During the days more humans come, bustling around to clean the tank and twice he catches sight of Cal lurking outside.

The man doesn’t yell like he had, or even really speak, but rather he stares and the intensity is… unwelcome.

He’s a predator, his brown eyes are frigid as the icy northern seas. An animal considering their options before striking at just the right moment. Knauss doesn’t want to be in his way when he finally snaps those jaws closed.

It’s not to say he’s afraid of the human, but he is smart enough to be aware. It helps that he can understand what he says when he speaks now.

“When was he here last?” He asks a man at his side and Knauss vaguely recognizes them.

“Yesterday night, sir,” the man replies, eyes darting to the side and he knows they’re talking about Bain. He doesn’t understand why.

“Interesting. Keep an eye on him.” Then he leaves and Knauss is left alone, gut twisting and he doesn’t know why. It feels significant in the same way it had felt before, with the scientist who’s glasses he still owns.

Knauss purses his lips and tucks further into himself, waiting for Bain to return.

*

He doesn’t return that night.

Or the next.

*

“If you ever got back to the ocean could you find your way home?” Bain asks one evening out of the blue, his tone blase in an entirely false way. Knauss glances over to him curiously.

“Of course. It would be difficult alone, but not impossible.” The journey would be similar to the gathering, when the pods would come together once every few summers in the warm southern waters. It would not be difficult finding his path with the stars as guidance, the most trouble he would have is sleeping safely in open water.

There’s a long moment of silence and Knauss assumes that the conversation is over as he returns to his programme. It’s a bit surprising when Bain speaks up again.

“I don’t think I can come back for a while.”

Knauss tenses instantly, turning back to the human, “For how long?” Bain shrugs noncommittally, Knauss considers what to say before blurting out, “I need to eat.”

That's not what he’d meant to say.

“Shut up, asshole,” Bain rakes a hand through his hair, tousling the short strands, “I don’t know, a week or so?”

“Why?”

“I just gotta go, don’t worry about it, I’ll be back. I’ve just got some stuff I gotta do,” Bain says tensely and Knauss can feel his stomach tighten harder.

He shifts his weight, glancing back to the television that’s still playing some ridiculous programme quietly before turning back to the human. Bain is tucked onto the chair, pretending to be very interested in the screen of his phone. A week. Or more.

There’s a beat of hesitation before he asks, unsure, “You will return?”

Bain straightens and finally looks at him, holding his gaze for a lingering moment before he scoffs and shrugs.

“Yeah man, of course.” Knauss nods haltingly. That’s all he can expect, then.

*

If he hadn’t seen the letterhead from MBIS he wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Just a quick glimpse at the mail that had been left on the kitchen table for Cal to collect whenever he decided to finally make an appearance.

Blearily, Bain had grabbed a cup of coffee and was chugging his way through a second one when he noticed it. Priority mail express to their house for Mr. Caleb Michaels.

Just seeing the full name written out in such a callous way makes Bain itch and he reaches for it before hesitating. If Cal catches him going through the mail it would be… catastrophic. His brother has been suspicious lately, and giving him another reason to look his way really isn’t what he needs right now.

Or ever, really.

But why would the Institute be sending them letters? Bain was pretty sure they had washed their hands of the slimy assholes back with the whole drowning incident.

Pursing his lips, he retracts his hand slowly, cupping his mug and letting it warm his hands before he scoffs. If it was a big deal then he’d surely have heard something. Surely. This is probably a poorly disguised threat about paying reparations like the last letter had; or maybe another bribe at being allowed to conduct some test or whatever with Knauss.

This isn’t his problem until it has to be, Bain decides before turning on his heel and heading out. There’s plenty of other shit to be worried with and nerds at MBIS don’t even make the list.

Plenty of other plans in the works.

He thinks about seabirds and how much he needs another cup of coffee. He can’t go back to the lounge tonight, too much work to do, but maybe Knauss would be appeased by more spam?

Wearily, he stumbles his way back to his room, flipping open his laptop another round of research.

It’s not until a few weeks later that he walks into the dining room and is shocked to find that Cal is already there, sitting in his usual seat. In an instant Bain tenses, glancing towards the door before steeling his nerves and going to sit near the head of the table where he belongs. If he were to do anything else then Cal would notice.

“Morning,” he grunts out, pulling out his phone and scrolling through unread messages. There’s not many.

“Josh, good of you to finally grace us with your presence,” Cal says, amicably enough. Bain grits his teeth. He hates his first name.

“Don’t call me that,” he protests.

“So grumpy this early in the morning,” Cal’s tone is casual and dangerous. Bain bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze. He knows better than to push it.

“Sorry,” he grunts. Cal grins and it’s easy and loose. Furtively, a woman comes in and leaves a pot of fresh coffee at Cal’s side. He doesn’t bother acknowledging her and Bain takes a sip of his instant brand.

Turning back to his phone he tries to ignore the prickling sensation of Cal’s dark eyes sliding up his neck.

“It has been a while, I can only imagine what’s keeping you busy these days,” Cal says, moving to grab the pot of coffee. Bain can hear the liquid hitting the bottom of the mug, sloshing before settling. Cal takes it with no creamer, but he does add a spoon of sugar, stirring it in with a teaspoon that clinks loudly against the ceramic.

“Nothing, just been around,” Bain replies, noncommittally, thumb still on the screen.

“Oh?” Cal hums and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He can’t know. Bain swallows quietly, reaching for his cup, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Yeah, been out with Emmett some. Chanel told me there was gonna be a meeting tonight,” Bain keeps his voice light and it isn’t until Cal takes a drink of his coffee that he finally lets himself look up. Cal’s eyes are closed, inhaling the steam before placing the drink back down and exhaling.

“Is that all?” He asks, tone deceptively light. Bain resists the urge to fidget. He can’t know.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he replies with confidence.

There’s a beat of silence that follows. Cal doesn’t open his eyes, simply sitting with a hand on the handle of his mug and then he’s moving. It’s fast and jerky and there’s a knife stabbed into the table. Bain jumps, sitting ramrod.

“I’m sorry, do you take me for a fucking idiot?” Cal’s voice has gone deep and raspy.

“No of course no- “ Bain shakes his head instantly, hair slapping his forehead with the intensity of the motion.

Cal continues like he hadn’t spoken, “You must think I’m stupid, with how you’ve been treating me. You think I’m so stupid that I wouldn’t notice what’s happening in my own fucking house?”

He’d respond but his throat has locked down tight.

Instead he watches as Cal looks him over, his eyes narrowed before jerking the blade from the mahogany table top. Pushing to stand and coming to his side. Bain leans back in his seat to put some distance between himself and the knife, eyes wide.

“Did you have fun? Had a great little game at my expense, didn’t you?” Cal’s voice has swung back into something sing-song and playful, but his grip on the knife is utterly deadly, “Get up.”

Bain swallows thickly and prays that his body will let him stand. Even standing, Cal is only slightly taller than he is, but he rarely feels smaller than under that frigid gaze. He doesn’t know what he’s done to set him off like this this time. It could be anything. If he just knew then he could try and make things better but he doesn’t even know what perceived slight Cal is referring to.

“Follow me.” There’s nothing else he can do but obey.

Cal leads him to a room and when the door opens his stomach falls to somewhere near his knees.

“Wh- …?” He starts, aborted, eyes wide as he takes in the room of monitors. Cameras showing all angles of the property. He knew they had security outside the house, of course they did, but this…

He didn’t know there were cameras in the tank room.

Four of them, one at the door, two facing the tank and a third overlooking the top deck. How long had they been there? The whole time? Did they have audio? Bain feels a bead of sweat roll down his spine, his stomach pitching hard at the thought that somewhere out there there’s recordings of his conversations with Knauss. Not only were there recordings…

Cal had known.

He had known the whole time. God he thought he had been so smart.

Suddenly Cal is grabbing him, fist curled in the collar of his shirt and forcing him to look him in the eyes. Bain’s breath snags and he stares with wide eyes as the knife is pointed at his jugular. There’s a wild heartbeat where he realizes, oh God, he’s about to be stabbed, before Cal smiles. Grin slow and deadly as an oil slick.

Then he lets him go. Bain stumbles to regain his footing. In his free hand Cal gestures with the knife, movements lackadaisical.

“Brother, don’t you trust me?” Cal asks lightly, but Bain can hear the undercurrent to his words. From years of familiarity, he has to know which way Cal will break at any point, but right now all he can do is try and keep his breathing quiet. On the edge of hyperventilation.

“I’m hurt, really. That you thought you could keep this from me, we are family, you know. There’s no secrets between family,” Cal continues before flipping to a monitor. On screen it appears to be a recording of Knauss swimming laps, Bain can’t tell when it was taken but he’s not in this particular shot.

“Right,” Bain croaks out in agreement, his lungs are burning. He can feel his pulse in his fingertips, but he couldn’t move if he tried. Usually when people are scared they fight, or run. Of course he’s broken. In the face of danger all he can do is freeze.

Cal laughs, delighted and dangerous, “Right. We are family of course. Which is why, of everyone, this betrayal cuts the deepest, brother.” He pauses, long enough for Bain’s rabbit heartbeat to jack into overdrive. If he breathes any harder then Cal will notice, “Fortunately for you, I’m willing to… overlook, this critical oversight of yours.”

“Thank you brother. What can I do to make this up to you?” Bain asks but his voice is reed thin and Cal grabs him again, viper fast. He flinches hard.

“You think you can make this up to me? Playing me for a fucking fool for months? Oh no, brother. It doesn’t work like that. You’ll try and make this up to me, and perhaps I may someday forgive you,” Cal snarls, his voice dipping between cheerful and stone cold at the flip of a switch. Bain trembles, eyes locked on the knife that has stopped moving, just inches from his gut.

It won’t be the first time he’s been stabbed because Cal was upset, but it would be the first that Cal was upset with him.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Bain is quick to agree, the white of his eyes is bright in the dim room. He’s going to be stabbed.

Cal releases him again, turning to grab a paper and glance down it. The knife held loosely at his side as he glances over the words before offering it to him. Bain doesn’t move to take it until Cal frowns.

It’s the letter, from MBIS. A… receipt of sale? With wide eyes he glances over the paper, attention staggering on the figure sum of the transaction.

It claims it’s for a grant, but he knows why with sinking dread.

There’s silence while and Cal surveys his expression. He must find what he wants because after a moment the same grin snakes across his lips and he puts the knife away, seemingly satisfied.

“This won’t be a problem anymore, will it?” Cal smiles, as if he hadn’t been holding him at knifepoint and he pats Bain’s cheek before sidestepping him and walking out of the room, “And Josh? Close the door on your way out.”

He waits a minute before letting himself reread the paper frantically.

Bain stares at the paper, panting now in earnest before he backs against a wall. Sliding down to sit and stare at the ceiling as he attempts to collect himself. The sale date was a few days ago. It doesn’t say when they’ll be by to pick up the… package. Forcing a few steadying breaths, Bain reaches for his phone, quickly dialing a number and waiting for it to finish ringing.

“Hey. Yeah it’s me. You guys free? Plans changed a bit.”