Chapter Text
Grace didn't want to be on the ship in the first place. The ocean had always given him the creeps with how deep and unknown it could be and he was only a subpar swimmer at best. If he had no choice but to venture out into a vast, strange, and unknown place, then he would choose space thank you very much. Not the ocean.
Especially not when the gray clouds only seemed to darken as time went on and his pleas to the rest of the ships' crew went ignored as he begged for them to at least prepare for a storm. Stratt had only told him to keep it together. No words of encouragement. Nothing vaguely reassuring. Just keep it together.
Easier said than done.
And now, strong winds followed by tall waves flung the ship around like a toy in a bubble bath with an extremely overeager child who just learned about the kraken. As desperately as Grace had tried to hold on, he found his grip on the rails loosening. He knows he screamed for help, but nobody seemed to hear him and anyone he did see on the ship deck never spared him a glance and instead ran around and secured the ship's cargo.
When his hands finally slipped, he found himself wrapped up in the cool, salty embrace of the ocean. A scream tried to tear its way out only to be stifled by a lungful of seawater. He kicked his legs under him and managed to break the surface of the water, hacking up whatever seawater he could before the next wave crashed over him.
His vision felt spotty but he couldn't give up. He wasn't dying here. His lungs burned and his eyes stung but he refused to die in the middle of the ocean. He squinted his eyes opened and tried to ignore the burn of the salt. It was difficult to tell which way was up, but he could see thrashing waves above him, so he desperately kicked his legs and used his arms to climb his way back to the surface.
He broke the surface once more and took a deep breath. Air. Salty yet fresh air. He had another couple of minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another large wave approach. He took a deep breath and sunk under the surface, avoiding the brunt of the force that would've been cast upon him.
How long could he keep this up? How much longer would the storm rage on? Would Stratt's ship notice that he's gone? Would they even come back for him?
He broke the water's surface once more, taking in greedy gulps of air. The water shifted around him and a massive shadow moved below him. His body felt cold, a mixture of the cold ocean and now an impending fear over whatever cast that shadow.
Hm, if he didn't drown, a giant ocean creature could kill him instead. God, hopefully Stratt comes back for him. Please come back for him, he doesn't want to die.
A new wave approaches him and Grace takes one last breath of air before submerging underwater once more. He ignores how blurry his vision is getting from all the salt water and stares towards where he knows is up, praying for the waves to calm once again so that he can surface.
The water distorts around him, as if something large has disturbed it. He doesn't want to look down, but curiosity has always been his weakness. He looks down. He only sees large teeth framing his vision and tongue reaching out for him before everything goes dark.
…
FUDGE.
Grace immediately flailed around in the water, desperate to stop any form of descent that he is sure to be taking soon. His lungs strain for a breath but he can no longer tell which directions are up or down and it most definitely does not help that the creature that snapped him up like a popcorn kernel started moving.
His feet brushed over something soft and he let out the last of his air in shock as the surface moved and rose to meet him. The burning in his lungs grew painful as water flooded in but before much else was felt, the tongue beneath him suddenly pushed him up.
All at once, he was no longer submerged in water and instead breathing air. It may not be fresh and it reeks and tastes of old fish, but it's air. It took a moment for his oxygen deprived brain to realize that now he couldn't move as the tongue had him pinned to the palate.
He let out a pathetic whimper. What could he even do? Beg for his life with a fish that decided he was a quick bite? This thing was holding him in its mouth with ease! He can't possibly fight his way out.
Another, much louder, whimper tore through his throat as he noticed the water he was previously drowning in begin to flow down the fish's throat with ease. He shook against the tongue as a loud swallow filled his ears.
But… he realized with a start that he wasn't being pulled down with the swallows. The tongue was still firmly holding him in place at the roof of the creature's mouth. Why was it emptying its mouth of water but not pulling him in deeper? Don't get him wrong, he does not want to be following the flow of the water, but it was confusing.
Unfortunately for him, he does not get that much time to debate in his mind the weirdness of this situation. The tongue finally drops and he's released from the palate and left sprawled on a slimy tongue. His breathing stutters. This is it, it has to be. He's finally going to be eaten. This is where he dies.
A rumble seems to crawl up out of the creature's throat and he can feel it vibrate through him. The tongue began twisting beneath him and curled up, sliding him… forwards? Forwards? Towards the teeth? Hold on. What? Huh?
Grace's thoughts stutter around in confusion as the tongue slides him forwards and then lifts as he reaches the tip. He falls slightly before being embraced in more slimy flesh. What.
It's like he's in a pouch. The tongue settles over him like a wet blanket. Eugh. At least its warm.
A gentle rumble passes through the creature again and Grace relaxes minutely. Well, if he's going to die here, at least the creature seems to be trying to make it comfortable. The grumbles, which Grace is starting to suspect are purrs, are just soft enough to feel like a massage chair through the flesh holding him. The tongue flexes above him slightly before relaxing once more.
Exhaustion from the past few minutes finally creeps up on Grace. Maybe he should just give in to sleep. At least if he's going to die, he can fall asleep during the nicer part as opposed to witnessing the horrors that were sure to come.
His eyes flicker shut and he falls into a deep sleep, pulled under by the lull of muffled waves and a purr resonating through his body.
A seagull caws and he can hear waves lapping at a beach. It's nice. The sun on his skin feels fantastic and his hand flexes through grains of sand.
His eyes flutter open and he's faced with the bright blue sky speckled with fluffy looking clouds. He turns his head to the side and smiles softly at a little crab scuttling away. It's just so easy to fall asleep at the beach, though someone should've woken him up sooner. He's so sore and achy, he must've been laying in the same position too long.
He sat up with a groan and winced at the pain suddenly shooting through his legs. Ugh, now that felt like he was just running a marathon or he took a long swim for way too long.
…
HOLD ON.
HE'S ON A BEACH.
HE WAS NOT ON A BEACH WHEN HE FELL ASLEEP.
HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.
The events of before he fell asleep flashed through his mind and Grace scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ever growing presence of the soreness in his legs. And whole body. Man, those waves did a number on him.
There was debris littering the beach, one of which he was realizing was extremely unfamiliar, but there was also a spot where it was clear that something large had disturbed it. The sand was pushed out as if to accommodate a large body and smaller indents were on either side as if being used previously as handholds. Like someone dragging themself through the sand. If they were massive.
And it led directly to where Grace was laying.
Something big brought him here.
Something big had him in its mouth.
Well now isn't that interesting?
That's gonna keep him up at night.
But first problem: where the fudge is he???