The Beach, Tuesday Night

It was bitterly cold, but Uma was still wandering along the beach. It was there she did her best thinking, after all, there she felt most at home. She was debating a late night swim - the cold under the sea never bothered her anyway - when something nudged her foot. She glanced down and saw a bottle washed up against the shore. And inside was a slip of paper.

Uma, 'tis Harry, the message read, written on a scrap of dirty paper pilfered from one of the propaganda posters Auradon hung up instead of giving the Isle real help. We don't know where you are, but your crew will hold fast till ye come back to us.

The messy scrawl meant he was writing with his left hand, the right one clenched around his father's hook. She could almost picture it, him sitting in her mother's restaurant, painstakingly forming each letter...

Another bump against her foot. She was unsurprised to see another bottle. She bent over to rescue that one, too. Hey Shrimpy! I know I'm not supposed to call you that, but maybe you'll get so mad, you'll come home just to box my ears and kick me out of the gang again. --Gil.

In the moonlight, more bottled bobbed on the water. She waded out to collect as many as she could find and each one carried a note. Desiree. Gonzo. Another one from Harry. Bonnie. Gil. Jonas. They needed her. They were calling her home.

Friends didn't leave friends on the Isle.

She took a moment to write a note of her own, tucking it into a bottle and hurling it up the beach as far as she could. She had faith the magic of the sea would get it to her roommate.

And then she was gone, diving into the ocean's depths without so much as a ripple.

[And with that, Uma is leaving Fandom to go off to her upcoming canon!]