It was raining. Of course it had to be raining. He hates rain. He hurt from head to toe, his jacket stank to high heavens, his stomach was gnawing on itself (hell, what he'd

give for that stale cracker-bread right now), he was dirty, and his feet had only just scabbed over. All of this, plus the rain, equaled a very, very unhappy blue alien. Not to

mention the fact that his sole friend was gone and he'd given his umbrella to a pathetic looking (even more so than him) homeless man. He. Was. Miserable. But miserable

was better than imprisoned or dead. He was currently scrunched up in a damp, mold smelling cardboard box facing the street. He liked to have his back covered. He had his

stringy arms wrapped around his knees and his bulbous cerulean head resting in the tiny gap between the crest of each knee. Of course, his mind was still whirring at a

thousand miles a minute, which may seem adrenaline fueled, but for him, it was just normal. All of those miles were directed toward his friend. Minion. He felt horrible for

leaving him in Their hands, but he would have been killed if Minion had not insisted on him running on without him.

He was surprised he even noticed when a woman walked past the alley he cowered in. The fact that it was very, very late at night probably made her more noticeable and

made him quite worried for her. He'd only just turned his mind back to Minion when another figure passed by. This one, however, made him shiver. In the brief moment the

shadow had been in his sight, the body language of whomever it was clearly stated "I am up to no good." His blood ran cold in his veins- which was odd for him because he

was usually quite warm. His instincts told him to leave it alone, but something else, something much, much louder shouted at him to follow. So he crawled out of his box,

doing his best to ignore his creaky joints, achy muscles, and shredded feet. Before he had even reached the end of the alley, he heard a blood curdling scream that sent him

into full panic mode. He already let one person get hurt when he could have done something and he was not going to sit by and let it happen again. Even if it was a stranger.

He raced down the sidewalk, adrenaline making the pain in his feet vanish instantly. He saw the shadow at the end of the street and he stretched himself to run faster. The

shadow hovered over the woman he had seen and he was close enough that he could hear her sobbing. He didn't slow down at all and slammed his shoulder into the man

and kicked him in the jewels. While he was down, he yanked the man's belt out of his belt loops and twisted it dexterously around his wrists and ankles. Once he was finished

with that, he finally heard the woman sniffling. He was a bit surprised she'd pulled herself together so quickly- most people would likely be sobbing like a newborn. She

looked up at him with wide blue eyes. He couldn't help it- he was terrified. He went sprinting back to his little box, never looking over his shoulder. He might've helped a

human, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't hurt him. It'd happened before.

Roxanne stood there in shock, watching…. It? Him? Run away. She stared at his back until he vanished from her sight, melting back into the night as if he'd never even been

there. Her attacker let out a little groan on the ground, which broke her out of her trance-like state. She glared and kicked him in the goods again for good measure. Then,

she whipped out her cell phone and called the police while her eyes drifted back to where the blue creature had run. This was one of the weirdest nights of her life. She

refrained from telling the police about it, since they wouldn't believe her any way and… she got the feeling that it didn't want to be found.

It was pushing five am when she finally got dropped off by a pleasant police officer at the stoop of her apartment complex. She waved her thanks to him, and trudged up the

stairs lethargically. Her mind zapped all of the energy from her body because it was racing and her curiosity would not let her stop thinking about who saved her. When she

finally unlocked her front door and literally fell onto her couch, she immediately closed her eyes and conjured up the blue person's image. Apart from the startling blue, it had

huge, wide green eyes and a black goatee. Okay, a man, then, she thought. He looked like a deer caught in a monster truck's headlights or a bunny about to be mauled by a

bear. He scampered off like one too. He was wearing a shoddy, ratty jacket, and had no shoes.

That made Roxanne feel very, very guilty. She should have gone after him. He saved her from that monster, after all. The least she could have done was help him… it's not

like she was going to do anything with her ex's stuff anyway (besides burn it or donate it, anyway). She could have given him clothes and shoes and….

Before she even realized it, she was fast asleep on her couch, dreaming of those huge green eyes.

He got no sleep that night. He was paranoid. Every little noise made him jump halfway out of his box. He kept expecting for someone to find him and…. well, he wasn't quite

sure what they'd do, but if they were anything like Them, he'd be dead before he could scream. At least the fear made the rest of his problems seem small. Hunger, stench,

cold, and dampness was nothing- nothing- compared to what he feared. His experiences with humans left much to be desired. He hadn't associated with a decent human

being in seven years. He shivered when dawn approached, but not from the cold, oh no; he shivered from fear- daytime made him more vulnerable to be seen. He turned his

body away from the first rays of sunlight and tried to think about happy memories to help him cope. He passed out from exhaustion well after the morning rush hour and

slept until the sun hung low in the sky once more.