So, as the summary says, this is a Selkie AU in a modern setting! Warnings for some messed up undertones of brainwashing and manipulation. Pitch is terrible. As usual.

For those unfamiliar with the selkie myths, here's the wikipedia article! wiki/Selkie

It's not often that the sky is this clear, or the moon this bright. The air is mild and the breeze pleasant, making the perfect night for a quiet walk with oneself.

Of course, the man does everything by himself these days, but he still appreciates the extra quiet and peace.

He takes a familiar path, winding down from his secluded home to meander through the tidepools and over the rocky beach. It was only a couple nights ago that he walked the exact same path.

But his purpose then had been different.

Now he enjoys the quiet, though he listens close to the still air, alert for any unusual sound besides his own breathing and the crunch of rough stone beneath his feet.

And there, a soft sigh grabs his attention. A flutter of a voice coming from within a close group of boulders. The man follows the small snatches of sound drifting out between the crash of the surf. As he gets closer to the boulders he can hear more clearly, and the pounding of his heart nearly drowns everything else out.

Crying. It's a desperate, panicked sound made from small shaking gasps and little whimpers and sobs. There's a shaking whisper to the sounds, like their creator is trying desperately to stay quiet but can't suppress the terror.

The man looks over the boulders slowly, very carefully.

The sight stops the air in his lungs.

His first impression is of pale, moonlit white skin and lean, tangled limbs. The young man crying brokenly to himself is something from a dream, lithe and small and practically glowing in the night even through the layers of smeared dirt and grime. The boy darts around through the stones, hands crusted with bits of dried blood from scrambling and scraping over sharp and rough rock.

The man moves in carefully, brows drawing together at the way the boy shivers, naked to the night air.

"Are you alright?" The man asks, voice appropriately concerned.

The pale boy flies back, plastering to the rock and chest heaving. "G-get away!" He chokes out, voice cracked and raw from crying. There are hints of otherness to him, his eyes are just a tad too large, a bit too blue, almost luminous in the way they reflect the moonlight. The man stops, holding his hand out placatingly, as if he's approaching a wild animal.

He's very aware that for all intents and purposes, he is.

"It's alright," he soothes, keeping his voice soft and even and low, "I'm not going to hurt you. I heard you crying while I was walking past." He frowns in worry, taking in the thin, dirty and bedraggled state of the boy. "What happened?" He asks when he's sure that the young man isn't about to run, "were you robbed?"

It's a logical question, considering the boy's bareness and panicked behavior. The question seems to reassure the boy a little. He's still breathing in hitching little gasps, but he no longer looks like he's about to bolt.

The boy breaks on a small, hysterical laugh, running a shaking hand through silvery hair. "I-...y-yeah," he sniffs, "you could say that. I got robbed, yeah."

The man steps in carefully, still moving slow and deliberate so as not to spook the boy. "Did you see who it was?"

"N-no...I wasn't actually around for, I mean uh. No, I didn't see them..."

The man nods, then frowns again as the boy shivers violently. He sighs and pulls his coat off. "For heaven's sake, put this on. You look like you're about to keel over any second."
He holds his coat out, raising his eyebrows expectantly. The boy watches him warily and takes a hesitant step forward. The man drops the coat around him, pulling his hands back quickly before he scares the boy more. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I uh. I lost something." The young man shudders, pulling the coat around his thin shoulders, nearly drowning in the material. "Well, no...I think it was stolen. But- I...I was hoping..I need it, it's really-" His breath hitches on another small sob, a broken little noise that shakes him. "It's really important..." he finishes.

The man carefully puts a hand on the small creatures shoulder, gently steering him away from the stones and out into the open. "Well you can't be looking for it when you're halfway to collapsing." He chides, "Do you know how to get back home?"

There's a small, tormented whine that makes the man whip around to stare down at the boy, who pulls into himself and shakes his head. "I can't...I can't go home. I can't go home anymore!"

He starts shaking violently, breath hitching on panicked gasps and eyes glazed over with fear. The man feels a protective ache in his chest, a hollow twist telling him to take the boy in and shelter him from all that fear.

"Shh, it's alright just calm down!" The man runs the hand over the boy's shoulder, calming and sure as he guides him down the beach. "We can figure it out later, for now we need to get you out of here-"

"No!" The boy stops, eyes going wide, "No I can't go up by the hu-where people are! I can't, I need to hide!"

The man goes still, frowning in confusion, "from what?"

"The...I think that, I mean I know it's...the one's who robbed me, who stole my- the thing I'm looking for," The boy's eyes dart around, his breath starting to come in shorter bursts again, "I-, I think they're going to come and try to get me and I can't- I need to hide and I can't let them find me!"

"And your idea of hiding was crawling around the rocks bare as you were born?" The man scoffs.

"Um-"

"Come on," The man sighs, guiding the boy into walking again. "I live a ways from most of the people anyway, and no one bothers me. We can get you washed up and fed and dressed, and then we can try to find this thing you lost, alright?"

The boy eyes him nervously, obviously still considering running. But he slowly relaxes and nods hesitantly, "Yeah...um...ok. I guess... I guess I can do that. Thanks uh...what as your name?"

The man smiles, warm and pleased as he leads the boy up the path to his home.

"You can call me Pitch."

"Pitch," the boy repeats. He smiles then, small and watery, but still there, "I'm Jack."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jack." Pitch says happily. They walk the rest of the way in companionable silence, Pitch's hand on Jack's shoulder, steady and guiding.

Pitch opens the door as soon as they reach the top of the porch steps and his face is open and inviting as he holds it for Jack.

The boy is still a little frightened, still overwhelmed and worried but he's more relaxed now.

He's settling in.

After Jack walks through, Pitch pauses for a moment, looking over at the shed across his yard.

Beneath the floorboards, buried under feet of soil, and lovingly folded,

there's a plain, white, sealskin.

Pitch smiles, and shuts the door.