Great Gatsby Fanfiction (Swimming AU)

 "Tom," I inquired, "what did you say to Wilson that afternoon?"

He stared at me without a word and I knew I had guessed right about those missing hours. I started to turn away but he took a step after me and grabbed my arm.

"I told him the truth," he said.

[A more truthful retelling of what happened between Tom, Wilson, and Gatsby. Except everyone is a swimmer and Wilson is better at swimming than everyone thinks.]

---

Full of righteous conviction, Wilson forced his way past Tom’s butler, bellowing, “Tom, you dirty little cheat, I know you here. Come out and face me like a man!” 

“Sir, please don’t go upstairs. As I told you before, Master Tom left for the country approximately an hour ago. "Any grievance you have with him, you may leave with me, and I shall notify him of it as soon as I can," Tom’s butler called out as Wilson made his way to the stairs. 

“You can save your breath for someone who’ll believe those lies of yours. I’ve wised up more than you people think,” Wilson snapped, his voice sharp with anger and frustration. 

“Alright, you got me! Hey, I’m here, so what if I am?” called out an exasperated Tom at the top of the stairs. “You’re crazy; did you know that? Has anyone ever told you how crazy you are?” 

“If it were your wife going out and training with some random other guy, you’d react the same way,” said Wilson, accusingly. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, the same guy must’ve come by and run her over.”

“Listen to yourself; that was just some freak accident; there’s no way that any swimmer I know would’ve run her over. You saw! I wasn’t even there when it happened; why are you so sure it was someone I know?” said Tom, trying to pacify Wilson’s anger.

“You’re lying to me. I know what I saw, everyone else thinks it was some other car, but I know. It was your car,” Wilson paused. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you’re denying everything, that’s why you want to get rid of me so badly.”

“It wasn’t me, alright? I promise you it wasn’t me," said Tom, trying to assert his innocence. “Why can’t you just realize that? That’s the end of this conversation.”

Tom’s butler made a move to escort Wilson out. “Sir. If you could-” 

“I’m not finished here; I’m not leaving until I get the truth, one way or another,” Wilson said authoritatively, putting on his swim gear.

“Let’s not be too hasty, Wilson. We don’t need to settle this in the pool. I don’t even have my suit on for God’s sake.” Tom said hastily. “Fine, I’ll tell you who was driving that car, okay? Just take off those goggles, no need to have a swim race.”

Putting on his dome cap, Wilson responded, “I’ll stop getting ready for that swim race, the second you tell me who was driving that car. I’m willing to take this into that pool Tom, just because I come from Ash Valley Swim doesn’t mean I can’t beat you.”

“GASTBY. His name is Gatsby. He’s the one who’s been training with your wife. He’s the one who ran her over. The yellow car was his. Just please stop putting on your swim equipment”

“Gatsby?”

"Yes, Gatsby, he’s this new swimmer who just joined West Egg Aquatics. Real upstart he was, always trying to join the East Egg Swim Team but never really understood our culture. Gatsby is the one you should be racing, not me.”

“Gatsby...” Wilson whispered, as though the name itself held the answers to his sorrows.

Tom, sensing his words were striking a chord, pressed on greedily. “He lives just across the bay from my house. My butler can drive you over right now, point you in the right direction, and save you the trouble.”

Wilson, hearing this, began to make his way out of the manor, his swim gear stowed away back into the bag where they came from. Dazed, he accepted the butler’s offer to drive him and left Tom and his manor behind him.

. 

“And if you continue through those gates right there, and just walk a little bit down you’ll be at his front steps,” explained Tom’s butler. Wilson, however, didn’t say a word. His face had an expression of resignation, a realization that he had one purpose left in his life. He walked towards Gatsby’s front steps, his steps slow and deliberate, hands gripped on the strap of his swim bag.

Gatsby was floating peacefully on his mattress, gazing into the pale blue sky, when suddenly, he heard someone asking: “Are you Gatsby?”

Sitting up, he saw a man’s frame silhouetted by the hazy fall sun, almost as angelic in appearance, ignoring the gathering storm in his eyes. “That would be me old sport. Is there anything that I could do to help you?” Gatsby replied, attempting to assess the situation.

“Good, we can settle this once and for all, just you and me. You might’ve thought your training habits would’ve gone unnoticed, but I know the truth now.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite follow what you're saying old sport. Just slow down, what’s the matter with this ‘truth’”

“All you Egg swimmers, East or West, are always telling us to slow down, thinking you’re so much faster than us, pulling the wool over our eyes. No, I know you're the one who’s been training with my wife and you’re the one who took her away from me with that stupid car of yours”

Realizing that he must’ve been the husband of the person Daisy ran over, Gatsby knew he needed to resolve this without implicating her. “Listen, it was an accident alright? It wasn’t intentional, she just ran out at me, old sport. This business about training with her is ridiculous, I don’t swim outside of the Egg enough.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Wilson spat, his voice rising. “I know it was you. Tom told me everything. You took her away, you and that fancy car! You can’t swim away from that, you’re going to race me right here, right now.”

Seeing that Wilson had his heart set on this outcome, Gatsby knew that his dreams of the future would come to an end right here. “Okay. If you insist old sport, just give me a second to change into a real suit.”

.

    Gatsby’s body lay unmoving on the surface of the pool deck, beaten by Wilson in the 100m freestyle. Wilson, however, seemed to find no solace in the victory over the West Egg swimmer, instead a rising sense of unease began to consume him. As footsteps began to approach the pool, investigating the sound of whitewater, Wilson walked off further into Gatsby’s garden, completing the massacre that had consumed them all.