I've been wanting to make this for a while (I have a few different District 9 fics in my database) and I decided to flush this one out and put it up. I have ideas for the next couple of chapters, but then I don't know where this will go…..Hope people like it! Please review (with ideas if you want to share)!
Nothing owned or gained.
When he'd been seven years old, Wikus had come home with his left arm broken. It would take four months of a cast, and learning to write with his right hand, before his mother would let him out of her sight again, but that was beside the point.
The truth was, he hadn't fallen from the swing as he'd told his parents as they rushed him to the hospital. His school was near the middle of the city, but on his way home, he always came within sight of the District. That day he was walking home with a few of his friends when they decided to so see the Fence. It wasn't uncommon for people to go gawk at the Prawns like they were animals in the zoo, and that day there were even some older boys from the private school up the block there. The guards never seemed to mind, they smiled and posed for pictures and showed the kids their guns.
He'd wandered away from the others when it happened. His friends were talking with the soldiers as Wikus stood alone by the fence, looking past the wire to the slums beyond, so different from his own little world. He'd always been the outsider in the group, he wasn't good at anything, and he wasn't smart or strong or funny. He felt that sometimes the others let him stick with them just to laugh at him behind his back.
He didn't remember much from that day after that, it had all happened so fast. Wikus had looked up to find a Prawn standing on the other side of the wire, staring at him out of a black and yellow shell, like a wasp. The alien had lunged forward, fast as a snake, somehow managing to get its bulky claw through the small chain-link, grabbing Wikus' arm and pulling it.
It wasn't until his shoulder slammed into the metal that he realized the creature's grip was excruciating, pain like he'd never before known tearing up his arm. The Prawn stared at the boy's arm, a look of what could only be surprise on its complex features, as if it couldn't comprehend why the body attached to the limb did not follow it through.
An experimenting tug was almost crippling to Wikus, and he shrieked in agony. His numb mind barely registered the fact that the Prawn dropped his arm like it had burned it, a split-second before the alien was sent whirling with a spray of blood and a cry of pain of its own as a rain of bullets tore though it's chest. Killing it before it even hit the ground.
Warm arms wrapped around his torso as a soldier pulled him back to safety, Wikus whimpering when his arm was jostled. The guards had rushed the boys off, not wanting to get in trouble with their superiors. The other boys hadn't wanted to walk with him anymore and had quickly taken off as well.
When he'd finally been admitted to the doctor she'd stared at him with the most piercing eyes, like she knew what had really happened. For the next two weeks Wikus had been terrified by the memory of that gaze, and lived in the fear of people coming to his door to tell his parents the truth.
He'd almost completely forgotten that day, the memory having faded, but it had been dragged up by the eyes in front of him. Again it was a doctor, but this one was checking his overall health for the records as he was given a new identity, not for a broken arm.
The situations were different, but the gazes were the same, and every time the woman looked at him for more than a moment, he thought she would jump up and call over the guards to capture Wikus again.
But that was impossible. Wikus van de Merwe was full Prawn now. And there were over 2.2 Million of them.
It hadn't taken very long for the transformation to complete itself, just over fifteen days. It had been the longest two weeks of his life. Once it had started, the transformation had been quick and agonizing.
He'd gully expected to be left on the road after James had been torn apart by the aliens, left alone to die, or to be torn apart himself. He'd watched the Prawns disperse slowly as he'd twitched on the ground, terrified of what would happen next, when a small group had loped over to his side. They'd stared down at him, large eyes watching as he lost the fight to stay conscious, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he'd passed out.
He'd woken to the feel of cold, compact earth against his fevered flesh. It'd been dark, dim light filtered through boarded windows lazily, barely giving enough light to see be. He'd known he was still in District 9 by the smell that permeated the air. It was thick and cloying, heavy with the smell of garbage and rotting meat. To his surprise he'd found the smell no longer made his stomach turn, but instead was familiar and reminded him of things he couldn't put his finger on. He didn't know how long he'd stayed like that, curled on his side in pain from his changing body, mind flickering in and out.
The next time he'd woken enough to understand where he was, Wikus had found that the pain was gone, leaving his body heavy with exhaustion, and that his transformation was complete. He keened slightly in fear until the scent of another made him realize he was not alone. A Prawn was crouched by the tin wall, and Wikus had realized then that he was in one of the hovels the aliens lived in. The creature was the largest Prawn he'd ever seen, it had a dark mahogany coloured shell, and dark tinted blue eyes, which looked at him without blinking. After a moment the alien had shifted with an odd sort of hop towards Wikus, dropping a metallic cylinder next to him as he'd flinched away.
The can had been covered in a yellow paper, with a cartoon picture of a smiling cat looking back at him. He'd torn into the can, the complicated parts of his mouth puncturing the metal and revealing the meaty paste inside, his stomach contradicting his mind as it took a strange pleasure in the food.
He'd frozen when he felt the other Prawn's claw against his own, gently probing and turning as it examined his bandaged arm. The dark alien had spoken to him then, eyes rising to meet his gaze, but the complicated clicks and whirrs had made no sense to Wikus. The other had stared at Wikus silently, as if waiting for a response, one that he could not give, before it rumbled softly and leant forward. Wikus had flinched back at the sudden movement and had sat tense as the bigger Prawn had rubbed his antennae against Wikus' own, and speaking again, but this time with much simpler noises.
"Quickly, brother." It had said, Wikus half-hearing, half-sensing the words. "They're coming for us. Eat, and then we shall join the others."
The larger Prawn stood, and slipped out of the hut almost to quiet for Wikus to hear.
Others? What was it talking about? He didn't know any other Prawns in the District, and no humans would be caught this deep in Prawn territory. He knew they were far in; he couldn't even here the sound of the city or the blades from the constant helicopters that patrolled the fences.
No one could have found him already, right?
And more importantly why was the alien calling him brother?
Why was he helping Wikus?