The Aftermath

Despite his past, Wikus knew he would not be attacked by the Prawn, if he kept his head down and didn't unknowingly insult someone at least. He simply had to watch out for the humans.

This didn't mean he didn't keep a chunk of metal at his bedside, or rather, futon-side, in case one of the Prawn decide to attack him. He wasn't stupid.

He didn't trust the Prawn as far as he could throw them, even if they appeared to be rather nice creatures.

Rather oddly, Wikus had actually tried Prawn-throwing. The incident was purely by accident, when a youngish Prawn rushed him, running towards him with a warrior-like bellow. Wikus had reacted on instinct, grasping the smaller body and hoisting him high above him and sending him flying off behind him, into a pile of trash.

He had been horrified, it had only been a child.

The young prawn had laughed and clicked happily, racing back to ask Wikus to do it again. The elder hadn't, and instead, he had sulked in his tent for days. It happened in the second year, almost third year, of living in the district.

He hated that he felt bad for what he'd done, it meant he was sympathizing with the...the things.

-

"Wikus?" Joseph asked, as the third day of silence passed, a mourning period for their last hope of survival. "Why didn't Christopher come?" His voice was needy and desperate.

"Because he's a fooking asshole," Wikus said, voice hoarse once more. They laid sprawled out on the futon, staring at the ceiling. "A fooking, bloody, fooking ASSHOLE." He roared the last word at the roof, and felt Joseph startle beside him. He felt bad, scaring the kid, but he wasn't about to stop now. "How could he do that to them? To me? He fooking promise!" He sat upright, and began to pace the floor while Joseph watched. He gestured dramatically to the door, snarling. "What? Did he think I liked it here now? That I would be happy staying a fooking PRAWN, so he just decided not to come back? If I ever see him again, I will wring his fooking neck."

Joseph was silent, staring at the ground by his feet. "You don't like it here?"

"What?" Wikus laughed. "Of course I don't! I hate it!"

The boy clenched his hands into fist, and glanced up at Wikus. "So you want to be human again? Leave this all behind?"

"Yes!" Wikus announced firmly, not noticing the way Joseph had begun to shake lightly. "I can't wait until I can get out of this fooking body, and go home. Sleep on a real bed, for once! Have walls."

"FOOKING LEAVE THEN," Joseph interrupted him, almost on a below. "If you don't like it here, fooking leave!" He jumped to his feet, shouldering passed Wikus and flinging himself out of the tent, taking his own advice.

"What the fook? Joseph, get back here!" He roared after the adolescent, but ther was no answer. "What the fook is his problem?" Everyone knew what Wikus wanted. He wanted to go home, just like they did. They just had two separate homes. Joseph knew that. How dare he try and make Wikus feel guilty of his wants? Fooking prawn!

He sat on the futon, hard, and stared at the door of his tent. It was falling apart, tearing at the seams.

"A metaphor," he muttered, laying back on his bed. "A fooking metaphor."

-

Joseph did not come back, and Wikus did not go out to find him. Another young child, this time a little girl who's parents had spoken to Wikus before, began to bring him his cat-food every night. She wouldn't talk to him, just click in greeting, give him his food, and leave.

It wasn't the same, but it was enough.

Wikus did not spend hours worrying over the younger prawn, and he didn't wonder where Joseph slept at night. He didn't care that only his breathing filled the tent at night and he sure as fook didn't care that he had no one to talk to anymore.

If it wasn't for the little girl, he would have wasted away. He had been their messiah, then their crazy man, then their hero, and now...now he was nothing in the eyes of the Prawn. He was just another one, just as lost as they were.

-

One week after the day of Christopher's supposed return was to occur, the MNU raided the district. They had promised the people that they would not interfer with District-10, like they had with District-9, but really, how often to human's keep their promises?

The bellowing shrieks of prawn who protested the raid, as their tents were torn apart and searched, left in broken heaps on the ground. Wikus slipped from his tent, for the first time in days, and his breath caught in his throat when he spotted Joseph, standing, chin-raised and defiant as he blocked the tent of a local elderly prawn. The MNU men raised their guns, preparing to shoot, when Wikus raced forward, pulling Joseph from the way and stammering appologies to them.

"Keep your son out of our business," one of the men growled, shoving them aside as they stormed the ladies tent. Joseph yanked himself from Wikus' grasp, turning furious eyes towards him.

"Why did you do that? I was making a statement!"

"You were going to get killed!" Wikus snapped back, and shoved the younger male towards his own tent. "Get in there and wait our turn."

"...our?"

"...My. I said, my. Don't go thinking you get to lay claim on my tent just because you've slept here a couple of times," Wikus grumbled, slipping in behind the younger prawn and rummaging through his things. He grabbed the gun he had hidden in his tent, ignoring Joseph's gasp, and quickly dug up a box he had hidden under the dirt of the ground. He had just finished burying it and retook his seat on the futon beside Joseph when the tent door was ripped open.

"What are you doing in here?" The MNU men snapped. "Get out, both of you."

They obeyed.

Wikus wondered why they didn't check their records, and find that only he was meant to be living there, not Joseph. His Prawn persona had no son. Perhaps the MNU had stopped caring about the increase in population rate in the district now.

How sad. At the rate that Prawn reproduce, the humans would soon be overrun with them. Perhaps then they could forge a proper over-throw of the human government?

Human. The humans. When had he started referring to them as such? It was still his government. He was still one of them, wasn't he?

Beside him, Joseph sulked and waited, just long enough that the MNU had finished their raid, before slipping back into the tent. Wikus stayed outside, jaw tilted up and unconsciously mimicking Joseph's earlier pose.

"See that you and your son stay out of our way, Prawn," the human snarled. There was that phrase again, the human, not man...just human. Wikus grunted as one of them slammed the butt of his gun into his chest, causing a slight crack in his exoskeleton. He bent over, trying to regain his breath as it was forced out of his lungs by a second attack, to his back this time. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath as they finished off with a swift kick.

Wikus would have done the same thing, he mused, as he felt someone grappling with his arm, attempting to pull him into his own tent. It was the perfect way to take down a prawn. Catch them unaware, hit them in the chest, stunning them, then when they bent over to grasp their new sore, hit them in the back and knock them to the ground. It was the easy way of taking down the larger form. Of course, the kick had been unnecessary, but Wikus probably would have added it in as well.

"What, are you trying to get yourself killed?" Joseph snapped, as another Prawn helped drag Wikus into his tent. "You tell me to stay out of trouble, then go find it yourself? Thank you," he said, off to the side to the Prawn who was now slipping out of the tent. Wikus raised a hand, echoing the thanks, and the Prawn nodded, disappearing out to rebuild his tent.

Wikus' had fared well, compared to some others. The supports still held it up, though everything in side was smashed. Even his collection of tin cans had been stomped down. Now, really, that was just cruel. What use had they had to stomp down his cans? He hadn't been planning on building a space ship out of them, he was just...he was just...well, he didn't know why he kept them, but they were his property. Those bastards had destroyed it.

"Well?" Joseph prompted, when Wikus didn't respond to his question.

"I was making a statement," Wikus remarked, still slightly breathless as he rubbed his chest, where the crack had started to form.

Joseph stared at him, first like he was crazing, and then that odd crinkling around his eyes formed, and he laughed. He shook his head, glancing at Wikus like he was crazy.

Maybe he was.

What was his definition of crazy now? He was a fooking prawn. That meant he was probably full-blown, utterly and completely mental.

"Fooking human bastards," Joseph muttered, getting up to glance out the tent door. He unknowingly echoed Wikus' own thoughts, and the elder prawn hid a smile.

It was hours before the MNU were satisfied they weren't hiding Christopher somewhere in the district, as if the guards had missed the mothership's return and the Prawn had all decided to stay because of their hospitality.

Slipping out of his tent, watching Joseph disappear off to find his mother, Wikus prowled the district, watching entire families try and rebuild what the humans had broken. It was the story of their lives, on earth, repairing what the humans had broken, it seemed.

"Let me help," Wikus said, bending to grab a broken support of one of the families tents. They stopped and stared at him, the children curious and the parents suspicious.

"Why?"

He paused, and glanced around at the destruction wrought by humans. "because I was one of them," he said quietly, "but I am nothing like them."

The mother smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good answer," she announced, foisting one of her young off on him to hold while she got the others to work. "You've done enough to help us, Wikus."

"I've done nothing," he pointed out, staring blankly down at the child he held. It was rather ugly looking. It made a clicking noise, chirping happily, and Wikkus amended his statement. It was just really fooking ugly.

"You tried, at least," the father chimed in, helping his mate to resurrect their fallen home while the children collected their belongings from the surrounding area where they had been thrown.

Wikus said nothing more, afraid of the realization which would come about. He spent the rest of the day helping rebuild what his people, the humans, had broken. He told himself it was because he wanted to prove that he was nothing like the man he had used to be.

That night, after all had resettled, Wikus laid with a Prawn beside him, and slept soundly for the first time in days. He dreamed of Tania, his angel, and of flying away.

-

The next morning, he awoke invigorated, but he still did not leave his tent. Instead, he settled himself on the floor next to his managed empty cans, and ignored Joseph as he tried to get him to go outside. For hours, he sat there, working the metal with his fingers and using whatever means he could to mold the material.

He could remember how Tania had looked, smiling down at him. He had dreamed of the day they had gone on a picnic together, curled up in the sun. She had laughed at all his bad jokes that day, and that night, she had laid beside him after letting him love her. It had been one of the happiest he could remember being, but he couldn't remember much of his days as a human.

The dream had changed abruptly, and when Wikus closed his eyes, he could still imagine the feeling of being free. Of flying. He had soared above the clouds, far from the district, until he was utterly alone. Instead of feeling saddened, in his dream, he had laid back and watched the sky. Clouds passed above him, as if days had passed as he laid there, until a tiny speck appeared in the sky. He had called out, as the speck drew closer.

It was one of the most exhilarating moments he could ever remember feeling, and his heart had skipped beats as he waited for the speck to come closer.

He awoke before the mother ship landed, but the feeling remained.

Christopher would return. He had to.

If Wikus didn't have his hope, he didn't have anything.

That night, as Joseph slipped into the tent, dragging his own futon mattress which he had salvaged from the dump, he spied something new in the tent. Beside Wikus, on the floor next to the mattress, a tiny figured stood.

Made only of cat food metal, the tiny, unmistakable figure of Christopher stood, watching over Wikus as he slept.

AN:

Will try and update tomorrow as well, but I'm going to stay with my sister, so I may not find time to write. Will only be a few days wait anyway, if I can't find time.

Lots of things happen in the next chapter, including eggs, more metal molding and falling stars.

Reviews are loved,

-Liaa