Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Captain! Watch out! There’s a-”

Despite Dashi’s warnings, Barnacles is unable to steer the GUP-A out of the way of the dark figure speeding past. The vehicle spins out of control, right into the large rock formations.

1.

He was 6 the first time it happened.

He had been leading the scouts on an adventure into a cave. The room was beautiful: ice perfect for skating and pillars reflective on the wall. A few cubs were making silly faces or pressing their paws against one as they gathered around. Barnacles looked into one himself, only a couple yards away from the others. He was thinking about how he couldn’t wait to tell his dad all about how he found the cave (his first discovery!). His dad said he always liked listening to his adventures.

A crack cut through the excited chatter. Barnacles barely had time to look down before he fell. Desperately, he tried to grab at the sides to stop, or at least slow his descent but the ground came up to meet him too fast. The loud smack echoed in the narrow cave.

He remembers being dimly aware of others shouting his name, but it had been overshadowed by the all-consuming pain that was his body. He didn’t even know where exactly the pain was coming from but he desperately wanted it to stop. He writhed and cried but moving made it worse. They were still yelling at him, but Barnacles couldn't make anything out.

It hurt. He wanted it to stop. He wanted his dad.

Slowly, the pain faded, and it felt so nice. Nice enough that Barnacles didn’t mind when his vision faded with it. His hearing went soon after, and finally, he didn’t hurt anymore.

It felt like he was floating, gliding along this newfound peace.

Then there was nothing.

“…arnacles…”

“…climb… rope…”

“…are… ou… kay?!”

“…Barnacles…?!”

“Barnacles!”

Barnacles jolted, sucking in a breath that seemed to fill his entire body. His eyes blinked open, the ice around him slowly coming back into focus. He remembers being confused and disoriented, his entire body numb. 

He heard his name called again, causing him to look up. He couldn’t make out the other cub’s face, but he still knew who it was.

“Tracker…?” He asked, voice hoarse. His body was starting to feel tingly.

“You’re awake! Guys he’s awake!” Tracker bounced in excitement. “We’re making a rope for you okay? Just hold on!”

Barnacles just nodded, the tingling turning to pins and needles. It was quite uncomfortable. He tried to stretch his limbs but a sharp sting stopped him. For the first time since he’d fallen, he looked down at himself. His paws were scraped and bloody, and his legs looked wrong. He frowned, wincing, and tried to readjust himself to be more comfortable only to realize he couldn’t. The cave was terribly cramped, and it was difficult to move in the position he was in. He couldn’t even reach out his arms fully. 

The needles grew sharper, his entire body being stabbed with every movement. Luckily, he couldn’t move much anyway. Unluckily, he hated the feeling. It was too small, too cramped. Barnacles hadn’t realized how much he hated it until then.

The feeling only grew stronger until finally fading, the pain hitting him as it did. He felt his legs snap back into place and his paws itched. Still, he managed to hold onto the makeshift rope long enough for the others to pull him out. The group ushered him out of the cave to the scout leader, who immediately took Barnacles to the doctor. 

“He’s lucky to be alive!” He’d heard the doctor tell his dad. “And practically unscathed! I’ve seen animals die or be permanently damaged by less.”

His dad had chuckled. “What can I say? My son is a survivor.”

He hadn’t known how right he was.

2.

The next time it happened, he was 13.

He had been ice skating with his sister. They’d done it so many times before neither them nor their dad questioned the reliability of the ice. Eventually, Bianca went inside, but he wanted to continue skating for a while. 

Then there was a crack.

The sound was so familiar, so horribly similar that he froze, watching the cracks form around and under him like an icy spider web.

Then, once again, he was falling. This time though, he barely had time to think before he was plunged beneath the freezing surface of the lake. 

Cold. It was all he could process. He was cold and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t get out. His paws banged on the ice, searching for the spot he fell in but it wouldn’t give. 

His lungs and body burned, cold becoming his very being. He kicked and hit the ice, growing weaker with every effort. 

One last punch, one last desperate kick, and then he was sinking into black.

The first thing he noticed was the pressure in his ears. It was uncomfortable, and he curled in on himself slightly. The next thing he noticed was how slowed his movements were, and the way he couldn’t feel his body. Then, he realized he couldn’t breathe. 

He jolted, suddenly desperate for air. He felt tingly again and a wave of energy rushed through his body. He kicked back towards the surface, resuming his assault on the ice until it cracked, cracked, and shattered and he broke through. He coughed and sputtered as he pulled himself from the lake. He felt liquid rise up his throat and he promptly vomited water, his lungs emptied themselves of the liquid. When the coughing subsided, Barnacles flipped onto his back, finally able to breathe in the air he’d been so desperately craving. His chest rose and lowered almost violently, and he just lay there on his back, staring at the sky as blue as the ice he’d been trapped under only minutes ago.

After a couple minutes, he turned over, cautiously crawling off of the ice and walking back home. 

“Ah, Barnacles.” His father said. “I was just about to call you in. Dinner is almost-” It was then that his father had seen him, shivering violently and fur frozen together in the doorway. He rushed over, hurriedly bringing his son inside and starting a fire in the fireplace. Bianca and he ended up piling him with nearly every blanket in the house as they forced him to sit by the fire with dry clothing. 

“Please be more careful Barnacles.” His father had sighed tiredly as he handed him his warm dinner. “Falling into frozen water like that… well, we’ll be lucky if you don’t get sick at the very least.”

“What even happened?” Bianca asked from her spot next to him. “You weren’t under for too long were you? You didn’t get stuck?”

He did. He remembered how it felt. The cold. The nothing. It didn’t matter though. He got out. He shook his head. “No. I was able to get out nearly immediately after I fell in. I came inside right after.”

He was lying. He didn’t know how long he was under.

His father sighed again. “I’m only glad you’re okay now. Most don’t come back up after falling in on their own.”

Barnacles knew. He didn’t know how he was alive right then. But dinner was so nice, and his dad and sister had calmed down from their initial fear when they saw him. Telling the full story would have ruined that. So he stayed quiet, enjoying the warmth that surrounded him.

3.

By the third time, he knew what was happening.

He was 22, and he had been walking through the arctic. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was doing, but he remembers he had been on his own.

He was walking back to his snowmobile when he heard the sound of metal clanging and a biting pain shot through his leg. He fell over with a yelp, causing the pain to stab deeper into his leg. When he saw the source, his heart sank.

It was a bear trap. One of those horrible contraptions the humans use. At that moment, he was hoping it was an animoid using it illegally. When an animal is caught by another animal, they have a chance. When an animal is caught by a human, they don’t tend to come back. 

He pulled at his leg, blood painting the snow. He tried to pull the trap apart but it was clamped tight. There were tricks, animals learned them in scouting, but they aren't guaranteed. Still, Barnacles found the springs on either side and pushed with his paws. He pushed and pushed, using all his strength, but the springs hardly budged. It wasn’t enough. His foot remained firmly lodged between the teeth of the trap.

He isn’t sure how long he sat there, working constantly on trying to free his leg or even dislodge the trap from the ground so he may flee the area, but eventually he heard the engine of a larger vehicle racing towards him. The figures emerged laughing with cruel grins, high-fiving before they descended on him. They were both smaller than Barnacles, but Barnacles knew not to judge purely on that. 

He couldn’t understand what they were saying - he wasn’t very knowledgeable on human languages - but he knew it couldn’t be good when they poked at him with their deadly instruments (he vaguely remembered them being referred to as firearms).

He shrank away from their prodding, still trying to get away to his snowmobile so he may ride to safety. The beings only laughed at his struggles. 

One put their pack down, grabbing a net from it and tossing it over him. The other jabbed at him with their firearm while the one with the net worked with the trap. It released, pulling out of his leg with dripping fangs. With nothing holding it, his leg bled freely as they dragged him across the icy ground. Barnacles clawed and pulled, managing to slow and frequently stop his captors. It only served to annoy them, however, as one turned their firearm over to bash it into his head. He saw stars and his body went slack, allowing the two to, with difficulty, load him into the back.

The drive was long and bumpy. He tried to claw or even bite through the net but it just ended up hurting his teeth. He was constantly jolted around, and there was a cover on the truck bed that kept him from being able to climb out. So instead he made a plan, recalling his previous precautionary training.

They eventually come to a jerky stop, Barnacles could hear the two get out and talk loudly with themselves. They shouted when he pushed past them, jumping out of the truck and trying to run with the net still wrapped around him. Of course, he ended up tripping, his foot sending sharp pains each time he moved and the net acting as tripwire. He heard angry yelling growing closer as the hunters quickly caught up to him. They grabbed at the net, and he continued to pull. They yelled and hit him again, and he felt an unfamiliar aggression blooming in his chest. He snarled, a sound alien to him, and turned to swipe at the two. Later, he would look back on that moment in slight embarrassment, but right then he was filled with the burning desire to survive, instincts completely taking over. The hunters jumped back, their yelling increasing in pitch. Barnacles started to turn to run again when a deafening bang filled the air and everything stopped.

He felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. He stumbled, legs no longer cooperating as an overwhelming pain exploded in his middle. He gasped and crumpled, writhed as the hunters laughed at his misfortune.

He’d heard of hunters. He’d heard of their danger. 

He didn’t think it would be like this.

Barnacles looked up into the faces of the humans, wondering how they could be so cruel. How they could laugh and kick him while blood spurred out of his mouth.

There were spots in his vision, his body going numb.

He didn’t want to die. Not here.

But oh did he want the pain to end. 

He thought of his family, the laughter ringing in his ears far too cruel for the soft smiles and kind eyes. He tried to reach out to them, but a firm boot crushed his paw. He couldn’t see where it came from.

His family disappeared, the laughter still echoing as he went with them.

When he came to, it was cold. Again.

His body felt heavy and tight, and tingled like it had before. It was much more uncomfortable this time however, the numbness fading quicker to a sharp ache that engulfed his entire body. The taste of metal filled his mouth. He cringed, eyes cracking open.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

His skin was gone, snow stained with blood underneath. He could see his muscles, red and stretched across his skeleton. Blood began to pump faster as he processed what he was seeing.

Inside his mouth, several of his teeth were missing, his tongue running over empty gums.

As he felt, small nubs began to fill the space. Then, a thin layer formed over his muscles, and veins found their places within it. The layer became thicker and thicker until he could no longer clearly see the red underneath. The nubs inside his mouth kept growing and he realized that, somehow, impossibly, his teeth were back, sharp and new. Fur sprouted from his skin, blocking out the cold that had been eating away at him. It was clumped from the blood it absorbed from the snow underneath him, but it was there.

The ache faded, being replaced with a surge of energy that had him shooting up.

He wasn’t sure where he was. White snow and gray sky seemed to stretch on forever. He also wasn’t entirely sure how he got there, or if he was dreaming or not.

It came back to him slowly: the hunters, the truck, the pain…

He was skinned. He was skinned and they took his teeth. They took the teeth which were now fit perfectly back in his mouth and the skin which was now back and covered in fur.

Maybe he had died and was a ghost. Maybe this was all a nightmare and he just needed to wake up.

He stood up, looking around again. He frowned at his lack of clothing (animoids aren’t required to wear clothing, but he does prefer it), but he supposed that was the least of his worries. The bear trap was gone, at least, as was the net. 

Trying to distract himself, he focused on getting back home. It was difficult, as any tracks had long since been covered and every direction looked the same. He sort of just wandered for a while, hoping he could trust his instincts to tell him the right direction. Eventually, he heard the roaring sounds of snow vehicles in the distance. At first, they made him want to run, or hide, or do anything but just stand there. He calmed down when they got closer and he heard them calling his name.

It was a search party, looking for him as he had been missing for three days (three days!). They asked him what happened, jumping in concern at his blood-soaked fur. He told them the truth.

“I… I’m not sure…”

It had only concerned them more. Still, he was wrapped in a blanket and taken to the nearest hospital. The doctors had also been alarmed at the blood, but the alarm turned to confusion when they couldn’t locate the source. And, after letting him wash up and giving him some new clothes, they, too, asked him what happened.

He was skinned. He shouldn’t be alive. 

“I don’t know.”

They asked him if the blood was his.

It was. He saw it draining from his body before being trapped inside again.

“I’m not sure. I think so?”

They asked what happened again. He told them all he knew, excluding the part where he woke up missing teeth and skin.

They performed tests, trying to figure out what had been done to him. He knew, but he would sound crazy. Maybe he was crazy. 

His dad and Bianca came fussing in at some point, teary eyed and fearful. He told him what he’d told everyone else.

“I’m just so glad you’re alive!” Bianca cried, throwing her arms around him.

Barnacles was released, but was told to come in later for a reexamination. His family never left his side that night, which he didn’t particularly mind. At dinner, Barnacles realized what missing three days can do to one’s appetite. He was positively ravenous .

Later, when he was alone in his room, he finally fully reflected on what happened.

He should be dead. He thought for the thousandth time. No one survives being skinned. He shouldn’t have survived being shot either. It was rare to survive being caught by hunters at all.

But he did.

A crack. Falling. Closed in. “He’s lucky to be alive!”

Falling. Cold. Suffocating. “Most don’t come back up after falling in on their own.”

A trap. Hunters. Pain. “I’m just so glad you’re alive!”

He shouldn’t be alive.

Darkness. Fading back. A tingling feeling.

He had died.

But he… came back?

He felt his legs snap into place. His lungs finally emptied themselves. His teeth grew back. His skin-

He sank down to his bed, face in his paws. His fur was mostly unruffled, if a bit rough in some spots. It was as if nothing happened. But it did. He knew it did. He saw it. He felt it. It shouldn’t be possible, but unless he was going crazy, which was very much a possibility, that was exactly what happened.

Barnacles could come back to life. Not only that, it seemed he healed from whatever killed him. 

He slid his face up, still cupping his own chin, to stare blankly at the floor.

No one could know. They’d think he was crazy, or they’d be worried. This was an issue he must keep to himself. 

And he did, for as long as he could.

4.

He was cautious after that. Part of him had been tempted to test his new revelation, but he had been anxious. On one hand, he didn’t particularly like how it felt to die, if that was what happened, and on the other hand, he wasn’t sure what he would do if proven right. For a while, he allowed himself to stay in a bit of denial. It felt more comfortable to just not think about it, and allow himself to become distracted by life.

He was 30 when it happened again.

He had joined the Octonauts a couple years prior, and the group was still smaller then, consisting of himself, Inkling, Peso, and Tweek. Their goal was the same, however: research sea life and rescue animals in need.

That day, Barnacles was performing the latter of his duties.

There was a net, left behind by fishing humans, that had become entangled around a couple pelicans after they dived for fish. They had been struggling for some time, and had resorted to resting on top of the net lest they use all their energy and drown. Unfortunately, a harsh storm blew in shortly after, and due to them being unable to escape, the pelicans were near death. 

Barnacles went alone, hurrying to the scene to aid the birds. The sea was rough, slapping against a large ship passing nearby. 

With much difficulty, Barnacles was able to free both birds and direct them to the sub he’d used. They cried with frantic “thank yous” and quickly flew inside. When Barnacles went to follow, he discovered that he, in turn, had been caught in the net. He was wearing his helmet, so breathing was not an issue, but the waves thrashed him around like a rag doll, entangling him further. 

Then, a particularly large one, sent him slamming into the ship. As the wave pulled back, Barnacles didn’t go with it. The net had wrapped around something on board the ship, holding him with it. What was worse was that his full body weight was pulling down on his neck, where the net supported him. He dangled on the side of the ship like a piñata.

He remembers struggling fiercely, the thin yet firm wire drawing blood as he pulled against it. It scratched his paws, blood started down his arms. It was painful - the wave continuously beating him as he choked and gasped, rubbing salt into his heavily bleeding throat.

He writhed and choked until his body could no longer take it. He went slack, the roaring of the waves still pounding in his ears.

When he came to, he was flat on his back. The waves still roared, rain still beat down on him, and there were voices all around. He also noticed that he couldn’t feel the net anymore. 

He knew immediately that he had died, but he didn’t have time to allow himself to think about that fact.

He was surrounded by humans, all staring down at him and saying things he couldn’t understand.

His body still felt prickly but he jumped up, backing away from the humans in front only to bump into people behind. He spun around. They put their hands up, backing away slowly.

They were smaller than Barnacles, but he knew not to judge purely on that.

The rain beat down as their horrible laughter rang in his ears, the humans continuing to say things he couldn’t understand. They were everywhere. He could feel them trying to drag him away. The laughter. The shot. The pain.

They shouted as he ran, jumping off the ship as that was his only escape. He didn’t have his helmet but that felt like the least of his worries. The humans were still there. He was trying to get away but the net and the trap fought against him.

He was thrown about, the waves roared, but he could see the sub. Somehow he managed to reach it before being lost to the sea, and he heaved himself inside.

The door shut behind him. He scrambled away from it, collapsing against one of the sub’s walls. The two birds lay on the floor passed out from exhaustion. He couldn’t breathe. His chest rose and fell in quick, uneaten patterns and he couldn’t breathe. 

“B***cles? Yo***the***?” The radio called. Their communication system was quite rusty until Tweek got the equipment to upgrade it. 

Barnacles jolted, looking to the radio on the control center. He stared at it until another call came through, pushing him to act. He scrambled up, quickly moving to press the button.

“Er- Yes. I have the birds and the net. Heading back now.” How much of that they caught, he doesn’t know. He slumped back in the chair, face falling into his paws.

He died. Again.

And there were humans.

A paw slipped down to feel his neck. Most of the blood had been washed away and, once again, the wound was completely healed. 

He shook his head when the feeling of netting wrapped around his throat threatened to overtake him. He was fine. The humans were gone. He came back. He always came back and he was fine. 

He always came back…

His paws were shaking when he drove the sub back to the Octopod, and he had to keep forcing his mind away from nets and waves and laughter. 

Peso took the pelicans into his care as soon as they arrived. Barnacles gave his report, avoiding the questioning and concerned gazes of Inkling and Tweek, and retreated to his room.

He actually couldn’t die. Well, he could, but he never stays dead. 

He wasn’t sure how to process that. He hadn’t been before and he wasn’t then. Then though, he could no longer be in denial. 

Inkling came to check on him later. There was no way he could understand Barnacle’s situation. With a smile, he assured Inkling that nothing was wrong, he was just tired.

They didn’t need to know.

5.

Over the years, the Octonauts grew in number. They became the number 1 rescue crew of the sea, and worked to educate as they went. They learned that some of their research had even reached humans, who had translated their work as “inside information.” 

He allowed himself to become distracted once again by his ever-flowing lifestyle. He was happy, Captain of the Octonauts. He was right where he wanted to be.

He was 37 when he was once again reminded that his life will never truly be as he wished.

It was a bad day. Actually, it was a terrible day. He had been struck by lightning, then crashed his sub immediately after, then a giant clam latched onto his wrist, then he was struck by a jellyfish, then he was hunted by barracudas and forced to escape off an underwater cliff.

Which, surprisingly, didn’t feel great.

The clam was heavy, causing him to fall fast and hard. When they landed, he jerked, and with an audible snap , he felt his wrist finally give under the pressure. He yelped, being pulled by his broken wrist nearly off the whale. He managed, barely, to hold on, clinging onto the whale’s tail like the lifeline it was. Still, he managed to aid his crew with the manatees, as they were having trouble.

His brief moment of peace was interrupted when the tail he sat on flung him back into the open water. At least he cleared the cliff, but he might have taken that over the broken shipwreck he landed in instead.

It didn’t hurt as much as his most recent deaths, but he would still have rather it not happened. 

The clam once again caused him to land much harder than he normally would have, and with the broken remains around him, the odds weren’t exactly in his favor.

He remembers thinking at that moment about how familiar the feeling of falling was.

He crashed into the wreckage, pain washing over his battered body. He isn’t sure exactly what killed him then, but he remembers how quickly the world faded to black.

The first thing he was aware of when he came to was that something was brushing him. He frowned at the tingling sensation prickling his body. He hadn’t realized he had died.

“Captain?”

He quickly answered the communicator, further aiding his crew. They just needed to create an air pocket for the last manatee. It was simple enough. It gave him time to figure out his situation, at least.

When he saw his almost empty oxygen, he hit his helmet against the device. It seriously felt as if the world hated him and was doing everything in its power to drag him down. He quickly shook out of those thoughts, springing into action. Using a piece of the ship, he worked on freeing his healed wrist. It was difficult, especially when his air supply was cut off. Kwazii and Peso continued to talk at him, but all he heard was that there was oxygen nearby. He wasn’t up for dying twice in one day.

As soon as he could finally slip his paw free, he booked it to the sub.

“Captain, are you alright?” Kwazii asked as Barnacles swam towards the two. He just shook his head, trying to relay that he couldn’t respond. The manatee looked at him curiously when he broke the surface and gasped for breath.

“I’m fine.” He responded cheerily. He’s alive, he joked with himself. “How are you?”

The storm passed and the manatees were able to return to their previous spots. He thought that would be the end of it, but of course his crew was curious as to why he had been in the condition they’d seen him in.

“But what about you captain?”

“Yeah, what happened down there?”

In truth, Barnacles answered without thinking. “Well, let’s see. I was struck by lightning, eaten by a giant clam, stung by a jellyfish, attacked by barracudas,, escaped on the back of a blue whale, smashed into a shipwreck, freed myself, ran out of air, and, oh yeah, found you.” He realized after that perhaps he could have left some details out. Kwazii and Peso looked horrified, staring at him in concern and disbelief. Barnacles frowned. It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“Did that all really happen while we were helping the manatees?” Peso asked.

Barnacles shrugged, not wanting the penguin to feel any sort of guilt.

“Captain, we have to get you back to the Octopod! I need to check you for any hidden injuries!” Peso fretted. Barnacles almost let it slip right then that any injuries he had before would have healed, but that would have opened a whole can of worms he was not prepared for.

“I’m fine Peso, really.”

“Just listen to him and get in here!” Kwazii half-demanded. It seemed he would not be able to slip away this time.

He ended up giving in, allowing Peso to check him over when they returned to the base. The penguin was very confused at the lack of blemishes on the captain's body. 

“I don’t understand.” The medic said, pacing back and forth while looking at his charts. “How could you have gone through all that and be completely uninjured? It doesn’t make sense…” 

He was looking at Barnacles again, who shifted uncomfortably. This is why he avoided check-ups. Too many questions. Too many wide eyes with no answers.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. Thank you Peso, but I’m going to go now.” Barnacles stood up. Peso made a move as if to stop him, but seemed to decide against it and back down.

“Alright Captain. Come back if anything comes up!”

Barnacles smiled and left the Sick Bay.

Behind him, Peso looked down at his chart once more, frowning at the complete lack of evidence of injuries.

The crew was careful with him that day. The vegimals cooked him his favorite for dinner, Inkling invited him to drink tea and read in the library, Tweek let him know she would work on shock-proofing the subs, Dashi apologized “for her ignorance to his situation” (to which he quickly assured her she was not in the least bit responsible), and even Kwazii awkwardly shuffled around him and did whatever he asked without any comments. 

It was odd, and confusing, but it went back to normal soon after, so aside from a few reassurances, he wasn’t required to say much. Which he was grateful for, as he didn’t really have anything to say.

Trying to stay positive, he would also note that that was one of his more merciful deaths.

+1.

“Captain! Watch out! There’s a-”

Despite Dashi’s warnings, Barnacles is unable to steer the GUP-A out of the way of the dark figure speeding past. The vehicle spins out of control, right into the large rock formations.

Barnacles jumps out of his seat, putting on his helmet and running to the escape latch.

It won’t open, jammed by whatever hit him.

He doesn’t have time to prepare for anything else.

The crash is so forceful that Barnacles is sent flying back to the front of the sub. His helmet shatters, glass cutting his face. The sub skids down the rock until it comes to a stop in the sandy bottom. Barnacles groans, sitting up slowly and bringing a paw up to his head. He winces at the sting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

No, what he’s most concerned about is the water quickly pouring in to cover the floor of the sub.

“Captain!? Are you okay!?”

Barnacles stands up, sloshing the water. “Y-yes. I’m alright.” The water is coming in through the glass window. The opening is, for the most part, blocked by the rock, but water seeps in through the edges.

“Is the sub damaged?!” He hears Tweek ask. She had made some adjustments that she wanted to test, so he offered to take it on a test drive. He grimaces, looking at the damaged sub. She may need to work on it a bit more.

“I’m afraid so. Sorry Tweek.” With one paw he holds the communicator, while with the other he tries to push against the rock. If he could just give himself enough space to slip through… His helmet may be broken but he’s swam to the surface before.

“Oh fish biscuits.” Tweek sighs. “Well, as long as you're okay. I’ll get that gup fixed and we can try again. Are you on your way back Cap?”

“Erm-”

The sub won’t budge. He didn’t really expect it to, but still, not good. The waters to his knees now. His helmet is broken. He very much will drown if he doesn’t get out of here.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit… stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Yes. Just a bit.” If he can break the rest of the glass he might be able to get out. There’s nothing to break it with though, and the glass is too strong for him to break with brute strength. Obviously, it’s not strong enough for glass.

The waters to his knees now.

“Captain, do I hear water?” Dashi speaks again.

“Uh-” He’s not going to be able to get out on his own. “Yes, unfortunately. Apologies Tweek, but the exit latch is jammed and the sub is currently being filled,” his thighs, “at an alarming rate.”

“Oh me, oh my!” Tweek exclaims.

“Why didn't you say so Captain?!” Dashi gasps. The octo-alert sounds through the communicator, Dashi’s voice sounding through. “Octonauts, to the  Launch Bay!”

His waist. He has a bit of room between himself and the top of the gup, but it won’t last him long. The water crawls up his stomach.

“Alright Captain, we’re going to send Kwazii and Peso out to get you. Just put your helmet on and they’ll be right there!”

His chest.

“Unfortunately, my helmet broke when I crashed-”

“WHAT?!” He hears multiple Octonauts yelp.

“Hang on Captain! We’re coming to get you!” Kwazii shouts. He hears the Gup-E start.

His chin.

“I’ll be here.” Barnacles attempts. No one finds it funny. In fact, it sounds like pure chaos on the other end.

Barnacles has to reach to keep his head above water now. He stands on the seat to make it easier.

“Don’t you worry Cap! They’ll have you out of there faster than you can say whale in a taco shell!”

“Thank you Tweek.”

Even on the chair, he is forced to push himself against the roof of the sub if he wants to breathe. He doesn’t have much time left.

“We’re on our way Captain! Just a bit longer!” Peso calls. Barnacles opens his mouth to reply, only to have it filled with seawater. He coughs, pressing harder and looking up.

“Thank- thank you Peso.”

If possible, the others get louder.

“Captain!”

“How full is the gup?!”

“Captain, we’re almost there!”

“Just a little longer!”

The water reaches the top, Barnacles taking one last breath before it is stolen.

He can really hear the communicator anymore, voices muffled by water. He can tell they’re loud though.

His lungs burn. He’s fine. Kwazii said they’re almost here.

He pushes against the rock again. It still won’t budge. Neither will the glass, or any other part of the sub.

Barnacles waits for the tell tale signs of his crew’s arrival, but there’s nothing. 

Barnacles may not be the most experienced in a lot of categories, but he knows what dying feels like. The spotted vision, the weakened limbs, he’s experienced it all. 

He can’t die here. Not with his crew so aware. If they don’t reach him within the next minute…

The world around him darkens, body jerking as he instinctively gasps for air that isn’t there, lungs filling with water.

The voices from the communicator disappear, the device completely slipping from his paw. Slowly, his body sinks to the gup’s floor.

The Gup-E tears through the ocean.

“He’s not responding anymore!” Peso frets, gripping his communicator.

“He’s fine.” Kwazii practically demands, though somehow the gup moves faster. “We’re almost there.”

The Gup-A is within sight. The two cringe at its condition, window broken in by rock and part of the side dented.

They pull up close and practically jump out.

“Captain! We’re here! We’re going to get you out!” Kwazii yells, circling to the front to peer in from the part of the window that is left. His stomach drops when he sees Barnacles on the floor, unresponsive to their calls. The sub is completely filled with water.

“How are we going to move this?” Peso asks, frantically pushing against the Gup-A.

Kwazii’s mind is running a mile a minute, focusing on the still bear inside.

“You got tools or something in the Gup-E?” 

Peso nods, already starting to swim back before Kwazii explains what for.

“We’re gonna break the glass. Pull him out and get him back to base.”

Peso does indeed have tools in his favorite gup, one of which happens to be a heavy flashlight. He grabs it and hurries back to Kwazii, who takes hold of it and together the two bang on the glass. It chips, breaking little by little, until there’s enough room for the two to abandon the flashlight and slip inside the sub. 

“We’ve got you Captain.” Kwazii grabs Barnacles’ shoulders and Peso, his feet. It’s a tight squeeze but they manage to get him out of the Gup-A and into the Gup-E. Barnacles’ face is blank, mouth slightly open. 

“Captain?”

Peso puts his head to Barnacles’ chest, listening closely.

Nothing.

Peso gasps, pulling back. “He’s…” Peso shakes his head, immediately starting compressions. “We need to get back. Now.”

Kwazii doesn’t ask any questions. The Gup-E jerks at the quick start but is soon zipping back towards the Octopod.

“Kwazii, Peso, any updates?” Dashi asks through the gup’s communicator.

“Yeah. We’ve got ‘im.” Kwazii says shortly.

“You do? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Kwazii grips his teeth.

“Dashi.” Peso huffs. “Please bring a stretcher from the Sick Bay. He needs medical attention urgently.”

Barnacles isn’t responding to the compressions. Tip his head back, plug his nose, breathe twice, and continue. Peso will not give up.

“On it!” There’s commotion on the other side as Dashi rushes to do what’s been asked of her.

They reach the Octopod within a minute. Kwazii hurries to park and open the top.

“Oh no…” Inkling gasps when he sees Barnacles.

“Help me move him!” 

Dashi runs over with the stretcher while Tween puts down the ramp to let the stretcher move from the gup into the Octopod. Kwazii, Dashi, and Peso all lift Barnacles onto the stretcher and Peso immediately resumes compressions. They run to the Sick Bay, Shellington trailing crying vegimals behind.

Barnacles isn’t breathing.

“We- we need to get him on oxygen.” Peso nods to the machine with masks. They push the stretcher next to it.

“Peso… how long has he been-” 

“Yes Kwazii, that one.” Peso cuts Inkling off in favor of directing Kwazii with the mask. He secures it over the captain’s face. “And push that button right there.” Kwazii does, starting the flow of oxygen. Barnacles doesn’t respond. That’s fine. Peso will keep doing compressions until he does.

“Peso-”

“Come on Captain…”

“You can stop…”

“Almost there, you got this.”

“Peso. He’s gone.” Inkling puts an arm on the penguin's shoulder.

“No!” Peso shrugs him off. “No he’s- he can’t be!” Peso doesn’t stop. He won’t stop.

Inkling just looks at him, face serious and eyes holding a world of pain. Behind him, Shellington has collapsed into sobs, vegimals surrounding him, Tweek is shaking her head with wide eyes, and Dashi is shaking horribly. Kwazii is still as a statue.

“Peso- Peso stop-” Tweek’s voice cracks.

“Peso-”

“No!” He cries again. Just a little more. The captain is almost back. If he stops now he’ll be killing him.

“Peso…” Dashi sobs.

Peso feels arms wrapped around him, tugging him away from the bear’s body.

“Wait, stop!” Peso screams. Inkling tugs him further away. He can’t stop. He has to save Barnacles!

“You’ve done all you could.” Inkling pulls him around to look into his eyes. “There’s nothing more you can do. I’m sorry Peso. He’s- Captain Barnacles is gone.”

“No.” Peso says, quieter this time. Tears finally spill down his face.

Inkling closes his eyes, looking down. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The room is quiet for a moment.

Tweek is the first to leave, looking more than a little nauseous. Shellington follows, if only to remove the vegimals from the area. Dashi, staring at her communicator, leaves soon after.

“I need to… call his family…” Inkling coughs. Neither Peso nor Kwazii look at him. Slowly, he walks out.

Kwazii still hasn’t moved. Peso isn’t even sure he’s blinked. He just stares in disbelief at their captain.

Barnacles’ fur is slicked down, clumped with sea salt. His hat is gone, making his head look oddly bare. His face is littered with glass, presumably from when his helmet broke.

Peso walks over. He starts with removing the rest of the shattered helmet, then he works on the glass embedded in the bear’s skin. He dabs at the blood with cotton, removing the oxygen mask and turning off the machine. Then he applies bandages to every cut. He carefully combs out some of Barnacles’ fur, being especially gentle with every tangle. He notes how cold the bear feels, and moves to grab a sheet to cover him with. Now, Peso can almost pretend that Barnacles is just asleep, warm and tended to.

But he’s still cold. And he still isn’t breathing. 

The shaking starts in his flippers, then turns into full body tremors as he slowly pulls the sheet over his captain’s head. It’s almost worse this way, seeing the lump in the sheet and knowing what lies underneath. He stares, as if by watching closely enough he’ll be able to bring the other back to life. Of course, it doesn’t work.

“Thank- thank you Peso.” He had said after Peso promised they would save him.

Something inside Peso snaps, and he turns on his heel to run to his quarters. He just couldn’t stay there any longer. He couldn’t take it.

In his room his barely functioning shell completely shatters and Peso screams at the unfairness of it all.

The phone sits in one of Inkling’s arms, taunting him. This is a call he’d hoped he’d never have to make, and much like before with Peso, he finds he doesn’t truly know what to say. They have to know, though, and this is his responsibility.

Now it is, that is.

Inkling shakes his head, slowly dialing the number. It rings. Rings.

“Hello?”

Inkling takes a deep breath. “Hello, this is Barnacles’ father?”

“Yes, this is he. Why?”

“This is Inkling; I recruited your son years ago?” Inkling pauses.

“Ah, yes.” The man sounds questioning. Inkling sighs.

“I’m… I’m very sorry sir.”

“What?” And there it is. The dread. The “I know what you’re about to say but please don’t tell me.” 

“Barnacles took one of the gups out for a test drive earlier and there was… an accident.”

“Is he okay?!”

“Unfortunately, Barnacles was trapped inside. We… were unable to get to him in time.”

Silence.

“I’m very sorry to report that Barnacles did not make it.”

Still silence, though Inkling can hear the bear’s quickening breath.

“No… I, not Barnacles. Not my son, please…”

“I’m so sorry.” Inkling repeats.

“I… I have to go. I need to… I have to go.”

The call cuts off. Inkling wipes his face.

One more.

He was even more worried for this call. When Barnacles first joined the Octonauts, his sister came to Inkling.

“Keep him safe. He’s been through enough already.”

Inkling had smiled.

“Of course.”

Never has he so completely broken a promise.

The phone rings again.

“Helllo?”

Well, this is familiar.

“Hello. Bianca?”

“Inkling? Is everything alright?”

“I’m afraid not… It's about Barnacles.”

“What about him? Is he okay?”

 Inkling closes his eyes. He hated having to repeat it. “I’m sorry, there was an accident with a gup. Barnacles didn’t make it.”

Much like her father, Bianca is silent. Unlike him, when she does speak, it is by shouting. She yells, she cries, and she curses him for the loss of her brother. He stands there, listening to every word. He can’t blame her for her outburst. In fact, he expected it. He knew Bianca to be a very kind and respectable bear, much like her brother. However, losing someone like Barnacles would drive anyone past their limits.

The call ends with all of Inkling’s hearts somehow fitting in his throat.

Another manuel hits the wall, sliding to the floor with a slap . Tweek’s ragged breathing fills the room.

“I’ve finished the adjustments. Just need someone to test it.”

“I will!” Kwazii raises a paw.

“No way.” Tweek crosses her arms. “I just got done with it. I don’t wanna have to fix it after you crash it.”

Kwazii slumps, dejected.

“I can do it, Tweek.” Barnacles offers with a smile.

“Would you Captain? That would be great!”

“Peso. He’s gone.”

“He’s gone.”

He’s gone.

Tweek grabs her ears, pulling them down to try and block out the horrible words.

“Apologies Tweek, but the exit latch is jammed and the sub is currently being filled at an alarming rate.”

Why would he apologize? No, no. This was her fault. She was too worried about the gup. She was always so worried about the gups.

Do the gups even matter without their captain to drive them? Do the Octonauts even matter?

“You’ve really outdone yourself Tweek!”

“Great job everyone.”

“Tweek has made some excellent upgrades to the Octopod.”

“Don’t be afraid to take a break now and then Tweek, you work too much.”

Does anything even matter anymore?

Shellington never knew vegimals could cry so much.

They are inconsolable, the room filled with terrible wailing. Shellington had just barely managed to reel himself in by the time they got to his quarters, but now he’s dangerously teetering on the edge.

Their leaves are wilting. He doesn’t know what that means and he can’t handle that right now.

“Oh, Shellington- what are… who are these?”

Shellington had smiled sheepishly. “Oh, well, you see, these are vegimals. They’re a rare species, but they’re a lot like us. They have a hard time speaking our language but they can understand and they’re very interested in the Octonauts…”  He trailed off nervously.

Barnacles smiled softly. “Well, I’ll have to talk with Inkling, but I’m sure we can find a place for them.

Shellington had snuck in with a bunch of talking vegetables and Captain Barnacles hadn’t in the least bit been upset.

Burying his face in his paws, he breaks down sobbing again. It only makes the vegimals cry harder.

After a few minutes, he opens his arms and is promptly crushed by a wilting pile.

It’s not fair. 

Dashi grips the control center. She did what she was supposed to. She sent others as soon as the captain said he was in danger.

And it still wasn’t enough.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit… stuck.”

She should have known them, based on the last time he said he was “stuck.”

What are they supposed to do now? How can the Octonauts be without their captain?

It’s not fair. He didn’t deserve to die like that. He didn’t deserve to die at all.

“How is the manual? Are you understanding it?”

“I-” Dashi considered lying for a moment, but decided to risk it. “I’m sorry Captain, but no. I’ve never done too well with reading. I learn better from experience. Not that your book is bad!” She clarified hurriedly.

Barnacles nodded. “Understandable. Everyone learns in their own way. I could teach you myself, if you’d like.”

“Really? That would be amazing! Thank you!”

“Of course Dashi!” He smiled so warmly, so kindly.

His body lay on the stretcher, cold and unmoving.

It’s not fair. She wants to scream, cry, anything. But that won’t bring him back. The Octonauts will never be whole again.

Kwazii doesn’t know how long he’s been here. At some point he had sat down. The world seems to have disappeared around him.

The captain hasn’t moved either, which is just wrong. It just isn’t right.

His hat’s missing too. He never sleeps without his hat. 

At some point Peso comes out of his room, eyes red and swollen. He clears his throat.

“Inkling… called us to meet.”

Kwazii just stares. 

Peso nods. “I’ll… tell him you’re busy.”

He leaves, and Kwazii is alone again.

It’s been four hours. Four hours and somehow they’re still here. It doesn’t feel like the world should go on as it is.

They can hardly look at each other. There’s no resentment, but everyone else seems to stand as a reminder to the one they lost. The empty chair at the head of the table screams at them, impossible to ignore.

“This is not truly a meeting.” Inkling starts, voice a bit raw. “I just- I simply wanted to say that- that I will be here for you.” He swallows. “Captain Barnacles is… was a dear friend and irreplaceable leader. I am honored to have gotten to know him, and… I will miss him very much.” He is unable to go on. Others look at him with watery eyes, some nodding and others staring at their laps.

No one else speaks up. They can’t yet. Another time, maybe, but now their voices are too tight to form speech. They just sit in each other's company, mourning an irreplaceable loss.

Then, from the silence, someone yells.

“Hey!”

They jump, head whirling to the hall from where Kwazii emerges.

“He’s alive! He woke up!”

Kwazii comes into view, stopping to catch his breath. “Captain Barnacles… is alive!”

When Barnacles wakes, he is acutely aware of something laying on his face. His body is covered in pins and needles, a feeling that immediately reminds him of its meaning.

He sighs, or tries to, as his lungs do not allow it.

He feels water rising and quickly sits up, vomiting the liquid onto the tile beside the stretcher. He’s on a stretcher?

He coughs, gasping as the last bit of water splashes onto the floor. His mouth tastes horribly salty, but at least he can breathe.

The sheet, which once had been covering his face, now bunches up on his lap. He frowns. Why was he covered-

Oh.

The feeling of dread that gripped him suddenly triples when he turns and makes eye contact with none other than Kwazii. 

The cat is frozen in his seat, eyes wide and mouth agape. They stare at each other for a few moments.

“Er…” Barnacles doesn’t know what to say, but his voice seems to jerk Kwazii into action because the cat stands up suddenly.

“Are you- have you just been sleepin’ this whole time?” His voice is shakey.

Barnacles sighs, turning to face Kwazii entirely. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated? They said you were- we thought- you…” Kwazii trails off, looking more serious than Barnacles had ever seen. 

So everyone knew. Well, he supposes he was going to be caught eventually.

“I’m sorry Kwazii. I know this must be very… confusing. I can explain, I promise.”

“You-” Kwazii glares. “This is one of those hallucinations ain’t it?” He articulates the word very peculiarly. “Where you see stuff?”

Barnacles shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. I’m sorry I made you think-”

He is cut off by Kwazii suddenly slamming into him, paws wrapped around his back. He sits in surprise for a few seconds before returning the embrace.

“You really are here…” Kwazii whispers, voice raw. Barnacles pats his back gently until the other pulls away suddenly.

“The others! They gotta know!” 

Barnacles can barely react before the cat is rushing out of the room. “Kwazii-” 

Kwazii is already yelling. They need to know, of course they do, but Barnacles can’t help the anxiety that grips him at the idea. Could he explain this in a way that doesn’t reveal everything, and if so, how? He can’t think of an explanation that would be good enough for everyone, especially if he was dead for long enough that the crew is already grieving.

It doesn’t take long for the barrage of footsteps to fill the hallway. Peso arrives first, others stumbling into him when he freezes in the doorway.

Gasps fill the air, but for the most part it’s silent as they stare at him.

Peso, still somehow standing with everyone crowding behind him, takes a tentative step forward. “Captain? Is that really you?”

Barnacles rubs the back of his neck, smiling softly. “Yes. It’s me. I apologize for making you worry everyone.” Should he explain now or later? He doesn’t really know how he’ll explain, and they don’t appear ready anyway. Later it is.

Inkling steps forward first. His movements are slow and carefully deliberate, and he scans Barnacles with an unreadable expression. Finally an arm reaches out, poking him on his cheek. The room is still, no pin daring to drop and break the silence. Then, there’s a small, shaky breath. 

“How… how are you…?” Inkling can’t find the words, yet they seem to act as confirmation for the rest.

“Captain!” They surge forward like a raging wave and Barnacles feels he might meet his seventh death being crushed by his crew. They tumble over each other, as if trying to feel his life force and assure themselves of its presence. The group quickly evolves into a shaking, sobbing mess.

“We thought… we thought you were-” Peso hiccups. If Barnacles’s arms weren’t being pinned by the rest of the crew, he would have offered the penguin a comforting pat. However, the medic jerks back suddenly, bewildered.

“But you were! We checked!” Multiple times . The others back up too, not ungrateful that they were wrong, but confused as to how they could have been.

Barnacles grimaces, absentmindedly combing salt from his fur with a paw.

“Yes… well…” He isn’t sure where to start. Should he also act confused? 

“Yeah, you said you would explain.” Kwazii remembers.

Well, too late for that now.

“Explain?” Dashi sniffs, wiping her eyes. Most of them are in a similar state. It’s only the vegimals who still cling to him like a life raft.

Barnacles sighs, shrinking slightly under the careful and teary watch of his crew. He’d kind of been hoping that they would be too caught up in their shock to immediately ask him. It was selfish, but it had been his last chance. He pats the vegimals lightly to give his fidgeting paws a task.

“I suppose I should.” He finally says, avoiding eye contact. They wait expectantly.

“You… might want to sit down.”

The crew sits in shocked horror, gaping at their flustered captain.

“What do you mean you can’t die?” Dashi breathes.

Barnacles shrugs, avoiding all eye contact. “Well, that’s not exactly what I meant…”

“But that’s exactly what you said!” Tweek argues.

“Yes, but, technically I can , I just don’t stay that way.”

This doesn’t seem to help. Actually, Peso looks like he’s about to faint.

“So, you- you really did die before? You weren’t just asleep?” Kwazii asks, sounding strangely small.

Barnacles sighs, shrinking even more. “I’m afraid so, Kwazii. From what I can tell at least, I usually do die before I can come back in better condition.”

The cat looks at the floor, stunned. 

“Better condition?” Inkling questions. “Do you heal each time you come back?”

Legs snapping back into place. Skin and teeth reforming.

“Yes. As if I was never hurt in the first place.”

“Is that why you threw up all that water then?” Kwazii speaks up again.

Barnacles nods, a bit embarrassed. “That happened last time I drowned as well. I think-”

“Last time?!” The tense quiet is broken as the crew explodes with this new information. “What do you mean ‘last time’?! How many times has this happened?!”

“Only once!” Barnacles is quick to reassure. Or, he thinks he’s reassuring, except no one seems very soothed.

“Only…” Inkling shakes his head with closed eyes. Another quiet moment passes, Barnacles surrounded by teary eyes.

“Captain…” Dashi begins, “if I may, how many times have you… you know…”

The memories creep up on him once more, filling Barnacles’s head like the water he keeps drowning him. He sighs, looking away. “This would make six.” He says slowly.

Perhaps shocked silence is the new normal in the Octopod. A few repeat the number breathily, shaking their heads in disbelief. As the seconds turn to minutes, Barnacles only grows more and more uncomfortable.

Peso remembers something, looking up sharply. “So, that time when we were helping the manatees, did you…?” Realization passes through the rest of the crew, each already knowing the answer. How else would he have been so uninjured?

Barnacles nods, thinking back. That truly had been one of his better deaths. Only a broken wrist and some burns, all of which healed after a very quick death. If only all of them could be like that.

“Barnacles.” Inkling says, meeting his eyes. “How many times have you died when you were with us?”

It would take someone blind not to recognize the guilt in the octopus’ eyes. Barnacles considers lying but the words fall from his mouth before he can stop them. “Three, I believe.” He cringes at their horrified expressions. “Please don’t blame yourselves. Truly, they were all oversights on my part. I really need to be more careful.”

Inkling only covers his face. Barnacles decides that is enough. 

“Captain-”

“I’m sorry everyone, but I’d like to clean up. The salt is beginning to dry and pull at my fur.” He’s lying through his teeth and they know it. Luckily, no one calls him out for it.

“Oh- of course Captain.” Shellington beckons the vegimals back to himself. “You must be tired.”

Barnacles only nods, walking to the door. 

“Your face is healed…” Peso notes to himself as Barnacles passes. The penguin doesn’t need an explanation, but for some reason the fact sticks out to him. Barnacles doesn’t acknowledge the comment, exiting the room quickly with salt trailing behind.

“How could we not have known?” Inkling breathes shakily. “How could I…”

No one knows. Somehow, even with the Captain having come back, it still feels as if the Octonauts have suffered a great loss.

As soon as he’s out the door he bolts. His heart pounds in his chest, mind whirling like a thundering maelstrom.

He reaches his quarters in under a minute, the door nearly slamming behind him when he leans against it, sliding to the floor. It’s awfully dramatic of him, honestly, but the lack of oxygen takes priority over any exasperation that might have bloomed at his actions.

His chest is tight, too tight, and there’s no air and he’s trying to breathe but they know and he said way too much and what is he going to do now?

Paws come up, tugging at his ears and he shrinks in on himself. He can’t breathe. Oh god, is he drowning again? There’s no air-

Their faces, the looks, he knew this would happen eventually but he probably should have actually tried to prepare himself for when it did. 

Barnacles covers his mouth, almost smothering himself. He’s being irrational. He needs to calm down. He’s going to worry the others even more.

They know. They know about the falling and the ice and the shot and the pain-

No they don’t. They know about what happened today and what happened last time, that is all. He didn’t tell them anything else. 

Still, they know too much, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. 

In for five, out for ten. He can do this. In five, out ten. In five, out ten.

His breathing  evens out some, and he is able to pull himself back to his feet. 

Why was he so affected by that? He hadn’t even gone into detail. It doesn’t make sense. He knew others would find out one day. He knew he would have to explain it to someone. He thought it would be fine. He accepted his situation years ago, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

Laughter. Falling. Swinging. No air-

He should be used to this. He needs to be better than this. He is the captain. He cannot break down for things like this. 

Dried salt pulls uncomfortably at his fur and he remembers his excuse, his reason, for coming in here.

The shower feels good, water warmer than an ocean or lake. It takes the salt and grime with it, and when Barnacles steps out, he feels just a bit more like himself. That, added onto a spare hat now firmly on his head, Barnacles feels the surrounding anxiety ease.

There’s a communicator on the floor outside his door, a note beneath it.

Tweek delivered this while you were cleaning up. She said you would need a new one.

You may want to contact your family. I told them of your passing a few hours ago. I apologize for the distress I caused.

Inkling

Barnacles isn’t one for cursing but today is certainly making him consider a job as a sailor.

The door closes once more. He puts the communicator on his nightstand and looks at the phone beside it.

There are five missed calls. Three from Bianca, two from his father. He closes his eyes, cringing as he braces for the nightmare that will be telling his family. 

It takes a few minutes for him to finally tap his father’s contact. He taps his feet anxiously, waiting for the ringing to give to a familiar voice.

His father’s voice is hoarse as he practically whispers a disbelieving “Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. It’s Barnacles.”

A pause. “Barnacles?” His voice cracks. Barnacles can hear something in the background.

“Yes… I was told you were called earlier about me and I… I just wanted to let you know it’s not true.”

“Barnacles you- you’re not- oh thank Antarctica…” His father breathes. 

“Wait- Dad is that really…?” Barnacles hears his sister near the phone.

He smiles, his twin’s voice bringing a familiar relief. “Hello Bianca.”

There’s an intake of breath, then a hitch, a sob, and he can pinpoint the exact moment Bianca breaks. 

Their father isn’t much better off, crying softly into the speaker. Barnacles doesn’t mind.

“Can we…” His father says between breaths, “can we see you?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you. I think we all could use a break anyway.”

The call ends with relief and gratitude, as well as an unspoken promise to explain the “misunderstanding.” He’s not sure how he feels about having to see his family’s reaction, but at least he has some time to prepare. 

Barnacles died five times and managed to keep it to himself. Now, with his sixth death passed, the secret is out. While he’s not sure yet whether that is a good or bad thing, it is an unavoidable fact he must learn to live with. 

After all, he doesn’t have another choice.