~Finding Nemo ©PIXAR 2003~

'Nemo truly didn't know how lucky he was to still have someone out there—to still have family.'

The past was not something that the Moorish Idol enjoyed thinking about.

It wasn't a well-known fact, but a long, long while ago, Gill had a home. And not that thrice-damned fish tank he was confined to—the ocean. It was as much a home as the air was to birds—the freedom it provided, the sheer integrity and purity that it could never dispel or dismiss. The very embodiment of a home itself.

At one point in time, the Moorish Idol's scales were relatively scar-free. Smooth and suave, he hadn't been too bad with the ladies as a juvenile. His disposition was less than sunny, but considerably better than it was now.

Once upon a time, Gill had a family.

As unbelievable as it sounded, the reef fish had parents once—no siblings—but two caring parental figures that looked after him in his youth.

He'd had a mate, even. A son.

But they were stolen from him, as surely and quickly as the ocean had been.

The memories were quick, mere snippets and snapshots, some even akin to a slow, patched movie reel, but they were more than enough. They flickered through his mind in quick succession, filling his everyday life, and haunted his dreams without rest.

Everything had been fine at first. The kind of idealism that gave one a 'warm and fuzzy feeling', the emotion and knowing that nothing could ever go wrong.

Life had been perfect.

His old home, a cavern in the side of a cluster of rocks in the Great Barrier Reef, had been illuminated by soft sunlight through the shallow waters. Other fish, anonymous ones, swam through the water, light flickering off of their scales. His mate and son had soon exited the cave, the youngest Moorish Idol looking almost exactly like his mother, complete with the same azure eyes, slamming into him giddily, mouth moving a mile a minute as he depicted his dream from the night before, or perhaps some other random subject that made some sort of muddled sense in his young mind. His mate—Gill couldn't even remember her name anymore…none of their names in fact—gave him a small nudge, a teasing glint in her eyes. She had lingered at his side as their son twittered away, chuckling privately, and their fins brushing lightly against the others the entire time.

And just as quickly, the moment was shattered.

A fishing net sprang out of nowhere. Screams. Whether they were of his family or the fish surrounding them, he didn't know. Flashes, flurries of color followed. More screams. Something whacking him away from the net—away from his family—as he tried relentlessly to reach him in his blind panic, slamming painfully into the stone reef. What happened next was a blur.

He followed the boat—it was relatively small, he recalled faintly, from one of the nearby islands perhaps, but his sense of logic failed him, and it went by so rapidly…he never even had a chance of reaching it. It had never occurred to Gill to ask for help—blind, inconsolable panic gripped him, uncontrollable fear as the boat ventured away. A blend of colors as the ocean whipped past him, other fish nothing more than vibrant blurs. The boat swiftly faded from view, and was lost to him.

Numb, he hadn't attempted to return home. Reason and thought were foreign to him—alien things that would not function. He just swam—for how long, he had no idea. But there came a time when exhaustion, of both body and mind won out, and he collapsed.

When he finally awoke, he was alone in the tank, with the ocean just past the window. Just out of reach.

He may've not had anything to return to, but he refused to stay in his glass prison. The ocean had taken everything from him, but one thing—the sole article that the tank had managed to wrench away, even if there was no one to go back to and no one to share it with.

His freedom.

The harbor was a murky blue-ish green, in stark contrast to the off-white boats dotting its surface. Sunlight reached through the glass walls, illuminating the small clown fish that gazed out onto the open ocean with somber eyes.

Gill remained silent for a moment, crimson eyes dropping, not wishing to look at what had taken so much from him—he and Shark Bait both—and suppressed a sigh. The boy was too young to know of such things yet. And so he spoke simply, his usual crass nonexistent.

"You know, you're lucky to have someone out there looking for you." Shark Bait…Nemo, truly didn't know how fortunate he was, despite his denial. And Gill hoped he never would.

It was said by some that the happiest fish, was the loneliest one….

Gill begged to differ.

A/N: I had to rewrite this ling about four times...I hope it was worth it :T

And as for those who are currently reading my other stories (which I still need to update) and are instead seeing me pour out story after story...I apologize.

As for the reason behind THIS story...well I had just finished watching Finding Nemo again (and loved it) I payed a bit more attention to Gill's character. I watched his facial expressions, especially in the scene written above, and came to the conclusion that he probably did have a family...once upon a time. This was simply my take on it. And if any of you have the DVD, watch the deleted scene 'Soap Opera/Gill Lies'- it gives a little more inside information on the fact that while Gill might've had a family, he wasn't about to telll anyone the truth any time soon.

Reviews are love :T