A/N: I so don't need to be starting anything new, but I don't want to just post this on tumblr. In other news, while I had been convinced the Weblum-Galra was Keith's Mom back in S2, I've since shifted to the sibling theory instead, which is where this fic is headed. So, if you ship them or are holding tight to the old headcanon, good for you! You may not enjoy this story, but that's okay - you are by no means required to read it. :)

For those of you who do continue onward, I hope to get some good reviews, people! Share your enthusiasm with me! It gets stuff written faster!

-Tri

P.S. There will be occasional illustrations posted to my tumblr account of the same username, which I'll let y'all know about so you can get as much pleasure out of seeing 'em as I do drawing 'em. No, without any additional holdups, I present:

A Theory of Family

Chapter One

In hindsight, turning his back to the supposedly-unconscious alien had been a mistake.

Allen didn't realize it at first, of course, as he was still fumbling to rip his spare bedsheets into more bandages, all the ones from the med kit having been already used up. The first moment he became aware that his surprise houseguest had woken up was when she kicked him into the far wall.

"Ji'shus fa'nevra?" He shook his head and blinked upward, blearily recognizing that the alien woman was standing over him, scowling. Even with half her sleek form covered with bloody gauze and cloth, she looked ready to fight - and win. "Ji'tarus keh sammit?!"

"...What?"

The alien's glower deepened. "Ghesh'tu da'jirinti, fa'aktel!"

"Okay, just, hold your horses," Allen groaned, slowly rolling over and shifting backward to sit on his rear. "Now. In case you haven't picked up on it, ma'am, I can't understand a word you're saying."

He got an arched eyebrow in response, but nothing more.

"Hn. Don't suppose you can understand me, by any chance."

Surprisingly enough, that question gained him a sigh and a nod. The alien even went so far as to ease her stance into something less combat-ready. Allen frowned when the movement caused some more lavender streaks to flow down from her side.

"Looks like you re-opened that gash along your ribcage - I'm gonna have to try and sew it up again- Hey now!" He protested when the alien snarled at his attempt to stand. "If you really do know what I'm saying, then you know I only want to help! Now I've done the best I can to tend to your injuries, and I'll be drug through the desert by a crazed horse before I let all that work go to waste!"

His outburst caused both his guest's eyebrows to shoot up. A moment later, she appeared to grudgingly accept his honesty, and moved to sit down on the edge of the cot.

With slow and careful movements, Allen retrieved the sheet he'd been ripping earlier along with his greatly-diminished med kit, and went to kneel beside the alien. He did his best not to grow nervous under the gaze of her yellow eyes, instead focusing on peeling away and replacing the bandage over her largest injury.

"...Da'busir," she muttered after a while. Pausing in his work, Allen peered up at her face, trying to figure out what had just been said. The gratitude in her eyes was enough of a clue for him to grin and reply:

"You're welcome."

Kexra's Daibazali:

Ji'shus fa'nevra - Who are you?

Ji'tarus keh sammit - What is this place?

Ghesh'tu da'jirinti, fa'aktel - Answer my questions, you ingrate!

Da'busir - My thanks