Multiversal Romantics

"You don't look like a dimension traveler," the mermaid commented, eyeing the black trench coat and shiny top hat that sat discarded on the dock beside Beckett.

Beckett coughed pointedly, raising his eyebrows. "Neither do you."

The mermaid glared at him for a moment, her lips twitching upward. After a gentle moment of silence, she sighed, perching her chin atop her hands. "But here we are. Alone and trapped in a world devoid of fish."

He chuckled, gazing out over the great, blue, lifeless sea.

Beckett was a very peculiar fisherman.

That morning, he had risen with the sun and gathered his things before he bounded into the sunrise. Behind his quaint home, the lake was serene, empty. The wind whispered across the water, urging him toward the dock. Any remnant of morning tension dissolved as he let the lake's magic draw him forward.

Isolated for miles and miles amid a dense forest, this lake belonged to him. Here, he needed nothing more than what he had: his magical fishing rod, his silky black top hat, and the entire multiverse in the palm of his hand.

In the airy quiet of nature, no one was present to question why fish seemed to flock to Beckett the moment he lowered his line into the water. Likewise, no one was present to catch him disappearing into another dimension the moment he caught a fish.

Being able to jump through dimensions with such ease put him in a position of incredible power. He could regularly wreak havoc upon entire worlds if he so wished.

Fortunately, he did not. Even the thought of controlling a single world made him feel light headed.

Although he was no world-dominator or power-hungry conqueror, Beckett held tight to his ability to see the worlds.

He needed it if he was ever going to find his soulmate out there in the multiverse.

Unfortunately, today, Beckett was stuck. There were infinite worlds in the multiverse, and he'd landed on one that contained absolutely no sea life; he had no way home.

After a long day of unsuccessful soulmate-searching and then unsuccessful fish-searching, he returned to the dock. Wrapped up in his coat, Beckett tossed aside his fishing rod. He shivered and curled up on his side, pulling his knees into his chest.

The hungry ocean wind clawed at his shaking body. The waves seemed to grow in size, towering over him before crashing down inches from his face.

Like most fishermen, Beckett believed in fate— fishing was the luck of the catch, the aligning of the stars, some higher power tugging at threads. Thus, Beckett wasn’t one to scoff at the concept of soulmates; no, he knew that his person was out there, somewhere.

Love had always been more than a feeling for him; it was the gentle way he viewed the world, the inviting smile on his lips, his warm southern lilt, and the soft honey hue floating behind his dark brown eyes.

He had loved many, but he had never felt what he imagined he would in the presence of his soulmate. Beckett left behind bursting hearts and broken ones, but he never glanced back.

For him, there was always the easy escape: the lake and the bait and the fish and a wholly new world to greet him on the other side.

But now the world was cold, and he was very alone.

Hours seemed to pass, and Beckett stayed awake. He attempted to resolve the aspirations for romance he'd held since he was a child. He tried to suppress the overwhelming sense of helplessness blooming within him and threatening to slide out the corners of his eyes. There would be no more dimension jumping. There would be no finding his true love.

He stared and stared at the sky full of stars above him.

But behind him, the still water began to stir. The breeze pulled to a pause. The clouds in the sky froze in their tracks. The stars surged with light.

A warm hand brushed Beckett's.

He jerked awake, cursing and scrambling about as his brain conjured a million images of all the horrifying demons and strange creatures that could possibly be out on this desolate lake with him.

Beckett came to an abrupt halt as he caught sight of her.

There, chin resting on the dock beside him, wavy black hair cascading around her soft brown face, was a woman. He could only see her head— the rest of her was concealed below the dock, under the dark, empty water.

"Hello," she announced, giving him a blindingly bright grin.

He blinked at her, confusion threatening to send him running down the dock. "Where did you come from?" He managed, half-yelling.

Her grin dropped into an amused smile. Then, there was a splash behind her. Beckett's eyes bounced to the source: a shiny, scaled, coral-colored tail.

The woman was a mermaid.

Beckett carefully lowered himself back onto the dock beside her, making sure to hide his surprise beneath the neutral purse of his lips. He’d seen many things in his travels, but never once an actual fish-person.

"Not many people curl up on the dock overnight— crying, no less. I was curious," she offered, scrutinizing him as if trying to glean his intentions from his facial expressions.

After a moment of processing, he picked up his hat and spun it around his finger thoughtfully. "You're a dimension traveler, too, aren't you?" It was the only reasonable explanation for why a mermaid would be here, in a world without fish.

Smile fading, she nodded silently.

"Stuck, aren't we," she stated. It wasn't a question.

"That we are," he muttered.

Beckett let his head drop against his chest, sinking back into the heavy feeling of hopelessness. He watched his bare feet sway in the crystal-clear water. "How are you doing out here in his world with no sea life? Must be lonely."

"It is." She laid her head down in her folded arms. "How are you?" she asked, voice muffled. "Fisherman traveling the universe— must be lonely."

"It is,” he replied, but something warmed imperceptibly within him at the prospect of being here with someone. He felt lighter. "At least we're alone together," he suggested, gazing at her.

She quirked her eyebrows, leaning forward. "I'd rather be alone with a fish."

"You're half fish. I might as well catch you."

"Go ahead and try."

They talked, and they talked. Beckett felt warmth radiating from her; from her witty take on the world, the teasing smirk on her lips, the airy, bright sound of her voice, the fiery shards in her amber eyes.

He missed his desolate lake and his peaceful home world. He would probably always miss the exhilarating feeling of greeting a new horizon every morning. He felt infinitely lost.

But, like most fishermen, Beckett believed in fate.

There were infinite worlds in the multiverse, and he'd landed in the only one that contained her.