Title: Flash of Moments3

Author: dreamerchaos

Pairing: Wikus centered. ChristopherxWikus.

Rating: R

Warnings: Language. Slash (and slash hints) between an alien and a human(Or who was human…).

Summary: Little moments in time…like the frozen image in a Polaroid…Before and after District 9.

Author's Note: These drabbles are not meant to interconnect. I'll place a note where any may connect…


Fishing and Bartering

('His Allies' series)

He has been living in the District long enough that Wikus feels obligated to pull his own weight.

He can manage, from his recollection from his time as a human, he can remember where to find resources on the outside. But getting there is the hard part.

He manages, bides his time and patiently scratches up the resources.

It is a delicate system of exchange and barter.

Wikus finds a prawn willing to show him the weakest points in the District's chain-link fence. Plenty of holes large enough for the smaller prawn to slither through.

Dragging an old canvas bag, Wikus dashes for his destination. Hulking under the tall bridge, out of sight of the cars and humans, the prawn peers into the deep murky water. The empty bag on the ground near his feet, the prawn carefully leaning over the slick moldy concrete embankment.

There!

Wikus swipes, slashing his claws through the water. Slapping the fish clear out of the water and onto land.

The foot long fish heaves, flapping and gasping for air. Wikus snatches up the meal and stuffs it into the canvas bag, well away from the water's edge.

But this fish isn't enough. Not by a long shot.

He continues to fish well into nightfall before the bag is little over half full. His eyes so much weaker than the other prawns', his night vision not allowing him to continue hunting.

Slinging the wet, dripping bag over his shoulder, he scrambles up the dry walls of the bank, ducking into tight alleys, wanting to make one final stop before he returns to the District.

These once a week excursions are too rare to pass up. Wikus, familiar with the layout of this part of town, hunkers down behind a fairly high-class restaurant and hotel. Waiting for the human porter to duck outside the back of the hotel with the trash from the kitchens.

Sure enough, several minutes after he arrives and is tucked within the shadows, the tall gaunt man swings the door open with a sharp kick. Grunting under the weight of the cardboard box full of meat.

Wikus sneers as the man tosses the perfectly fresh meat into the bin. Clearly, the human tourists and guests find it beneath them to partake on a steak served too rare, or a fish with one too many scales on its belly.

How proud these soft meat-bags are while the refuges several blocks away are starving.

Once the porter returns inside, and the door slams shut, Wikus scurries towards the large metal trash bin. Leaping up the catch the rim, and heaves his gaunt frame over the side to peer within.

'Disgusting…' He hisses. Not at the state of the meat, but at the sheer amount of waste, so much decent food left to rot away due to others' laziness.

A whole, perfectly gutted salmon is stuffed into his sack, as well as a bounty of cut meats and other bits of fish that were ordered back to the kitchen by stuffy restaurant guests.

Wikus will eagerly scrape up their garbage, willing to look at the nuggets of plenty rather than sneer at the filth and grime.

He is swift to return to the District, having spent long enough away.

Squeezing through the narrow hole in the fence, he is met with the prawn who had exchanged the whereabouts of the weak points.

As was their agreement, the prawn has first choice of Wikus' finds. The tall prawn gently opens the bag and peers inside, choosing two pieces of beef, mandibles clicking with approval and greed as he bows to Wikus before tucking away back to his shack, the exchange completed.

Wikus takes a moment to select one of the fish from the river, and a piece of steak from the restaurant, tucking his choices into the pocket of another smaller bag, stuffing the long cloth handle through the loop of his belt and pants.

He continues to trek through the District and back towards his den, stopping along the way at his other destinations.

The thin prawn lifts his head from his nest, uncurling from around his newborn offspring, and peers at Wikus curiously as the other small prawn ducks his head into the shack.

Wikus beckons the exhausted prawn closer, holding open the bag to show him the meat within.

The other prawn clicks with wonder, hesitantly peeking inside, and then looking to Wikus.

"Go ahead." Wikus urges.

From the nest, two sprawnlings peep for their parent―twins, extremely rare from one parent―and the tired prawn selects three fish from the river, head and antenna bowing in thanks before he shuffles back towards his nest and offspring. Crouching down within the tall mound of newspaper and allows his two young ones to swarm him, their little whimpers and cries muffled as their father gifts them with food.

Wikus retreats to allow the father and his offspring to eat in peace.

Not too far away, Wikus runs into the top prawn of the yard. And as the pecking order dictates―and quite honestly as he has no real choice in the matter―he willingly hands over the bag for inspection.

The large prawn unsurprisingly takes the whole salmon, and another choice piece for his mate. The prawn growls, leans forward and bumps his cheek plating against Wikus in approval for his bounty, and thus allows the smaller prawn to leave his sight without fear of disapproval or anger.

Wikus' energy is spent by the time he manages to wind his way towards the shack he has begun sharing with two other prawns. The long day of hunting and scurrying wearing on him.

He drops the bag of meat near the trash can where within a small fire crackles and burns. He steps aside to allow the other prawns to rustle through the bag and take their share, while Wikus pulls up his separate cloth sack and clutches his pieces against his chest.

Plopping down close to the warmth of the fire, Wikus idly chews at the still warm flesh of his fish, one of his roommates sitting at his side, the other prawn bumping his shoulder against Wikus' in acknowledgement and thanks for the meal, hunched over his piece of steak that he had snapped up from the bag.

Wikus purrs, and mimics the gesture. Glad to share the gift of a meal and full bellies, after so many days without.


Thieves

Wikus hides out of sight as the young human gang dares to break into the District, ignoring the signs warning of no humans trespassing into the enclosure.

But the young men, too pumped with adrenaline and seeking to prove their bravery and manliness, strut into the District, baying proudly, hounding the smaller of the prawns as the refugees duck for cover.

The armed guards will not do anything beyond continue to yell warnings to the young gangsters. Having learned from previous excursions not to venture into the District unless ordered, the prawns growing agitated as of late, and not taking too kindly to invading swarms.

The young men bang on the rickety walls of shacks, kicking dirt across the yards in order to snuff out fires. Laughing and swiping cans of cat food and other precious materials while the smaller prawns bleat and cry out in outrage, but are forced to heed the metal pipes and guns of the brazen humans.

A lone, young prawn shrieks in fear as the humans stumble upon him. The young father shielding his twin offspring as the humans kick dirt into his face, while his sons cry out, hiding within their father's arms.

Wikus snarls as one human smashes his pipe down on the father's unguarded back, the small prawn yelping, and then collapsing beneath another savage blow to his temple. His sons shriek from underneath the weight of their father, pinned by their protector while surrounded by a circling group of humans baying and cackling like hyenas.

Ducking out of his area of cover, Wikus bound towards the group, bellowing and leaping onto the back of one of the humans who had struck the other prawn.

The human shrieks, pale ivory skin splitting under Wikus' claws as the prawn scrabbles and grabs at his shoulders, using his weight to drag the human down to the ground.

Wikus yelps when the other humans begin to punch and kick at his back and sides, but he stubbornly hangs on. Snapping his sharp mandibles into the human's neck, hanging on like a bulldog as the pinned human bleats and wails, blood pouring from the wound.

The young prawn father stirs, carefully sitting up while pulling his sons up into his arms. The father trying to crawl away while protecting his offspring.

The human gang notices the prawn's attempts to scurry from sight, swinging around, and the leader of the gang raises his gun, aiming for the father's head.

The human doesn't manage to pull the trigger, the weapon―and a good length of his forearm―snapped off by the wicked mandibles and beak of the top prawn, the huge creature snarling, grinning around the severed limb and dangling weapon hanging from the appendage's clenched fingers.

Blood sprays, and the leader wails in agony and terror.

The blood and cries only draw the other prawns closer. Enraged by the shrieks of the smaller prawns, and the wailing cries of young sprawnlings, the leader prawn and his subordinates swarm from every direction, and tightly circle the pack of humans while howling their fury.

The leader's mate chirps and guides the young father and his offspring away, scooping up one of the twins and urges the father to follow, hastily leading them away from the battlefield as the other prawns leap upon the humans, giving them no opportunity to swing their weapons or fire off a shot.

Wikus groans as a pair of prawn hands yanks him up off the ground, one of the subordinates dragging him out from underneath the clash and dance of intermixed human and prawn legs.

"Is anything broken?" The prawn demands as he heaves Wikus onto his feet, and loops the smaller prawn's arm over his tall shoulder, wrapping an arm around Wikus' waist as the smaller swoons from the pain.

"N-No.." Wikus moans, clutching his side, "Just took…a bit of a beating.."

From not too far away, the prawns and humans mesh in an angry seam of combat, the prawns waving severed limbs in the air, unmoved by pleas or mercy, dragging the humans through the dirt and trash, clawing and gouging them, enraged by the humans' attack, instigated further by their leader's roars as he smears the human leader across the ground.

"Dirty thieves," The larger prawn spits in disgust, while he winds his arms tighter around Wikus, dipping his antennas to brush and trace the other prawn's face and neck, in search for any wounds he may have missed, "I will take you somewhere safe before I return as my leader commands."

"Are the others alright?" Wikus asks, hobbling alongside the other prawn, grimacing and heaving from the sting and clench of pain running throughout his body.

"You protected them, long enough for us to answer your cries." The other assures, murmuring for Wikus to stop asking questions and to follow him.

Wikus complies, shoulders relaxing with relief that the other prawn and his offspring were safe.

"Damn them…" Wikus hangs his head, curling against the other prawn's assuring bulk and warmth, "It seems like so few of these humans aren't rotten to the core."

The other prawn's mandibles curl as he chuckles ominously, "Fewer still we'll need to worry about once our leader is done with them."

Wikus isn't certain whether to feel sick or a wash of pride, as the leader answers the prawn's dark promise with an ear-splitting howl.


Children

(Sequel to William)

Aboard the mother ship, the vessel spearing the stars, speeding towards home, Christopher awoke from deep slumber. Spurred awake from the short, quiet whimpers of his bed fellow.

On the other side of their quarters, curled within the other nest, Wikus keened, waking from a nightmare and curling tightly around his young one. William whimpering, wrapping his thin arms around his father's neck.

"Wikus?" Christopher rises from the nest, but not before he nudges Oliver to lay back down, the older of the two young prawns chirring in discomfort at Wikus' cries.

Wikus shivered as Christopher crawls into the cocoon of pliable sheaths of material, the edges of the nest bend and yield against their weight like polyester and vinyl. "I…I remember…"

"What is it, Wikus?" Christopher curls against Wikus' back, purring and wrapping his hands around the smaller prawn's shoulders.

"…I killed them." Wikus keens. Rocking stiffly within Christopher's embrace, clutching William tightly to him, the smaller prawn whimpering at his father's soft cries, "All those eggs. Those young ones…I laughed, making a joke as the shack burned. I killed all those eggs, and I have the gall to hold this tiny life in my arms after murdering so many others."

Christopher stiffens, just as suddenly understanding what troubles Wikus terribly.

"That…" The larger prawn wraps himself around Wikus, murmuring for the smaller prawn to calm and hush, purring and nuzzling the whimpering prawn, "You only knew what the MNU had indoctrinated."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!"

"Listen." Christopher insists, answering William's keens by brushing his tentacles and antennas down the young one's pinched face, "Leave that past behind, Wikus. Look to your son. Look to our sons. They represent everything that is good within us. So look to them now, in the present, and forget the darker parts of your past."

"Why do you pass forgiveness so easily?" Wikus turns partially within Christopher's tight embrace. William peeping, tucking his face against the larger prawn's chest as Wikus completely turns around within Christopher's arms, "After I threatened to take your son, after everything, how can your forgive that?"

"Because you are genuinely grieving over your error." Christopher lifts a hand, tracing the back of his claw down the carapace of Wikus' face, "I do not look into the face of a monster, Wikus. Only someone so cruel would disregard their past, but also continue their wrongs. But you…you suffer, when all I want for you is to heal and look towards the future. For all four of us."

"…" Wikus sniffles, burrowing into Christopher's chest, "Together?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Christopher muffles a chuckle into Wikus' shoulder as he feels the nest dip, Oliver crawling behind his father, purrs and settles in amongst his expanded family, "and I'm certain the little ones don't disagree."

In unison William and Oliver chirp with approval.