Wow. Chapter 10. I remember when I started writing this I was like "Oh, it'll prolly be about four or five chapters long, no biggie." NOW look at it. Ten freakin' chapters! Really, it's only thanks to you lovely people and your excellent reviews that I made it this far. Of course, by the time I'm done it'll be more like 15 chapters or something… anyway, here we go!
PS: Thanks to Murder Junkie for the extremely helpful tips on the care and keeping of prawns (And I'm happy that I could please your rabid inner xeno girl!) Again, your knowledge fills me with awe. Thing With No Talent, your reviews make my day and keep me giggling (Actually, when I read your last one I thought you were ranting at me at first and I was like "Oh god what did I do wrong?!" before realizing that you were shouting at Wikus) Kurichi-chan—oh, you want cuddling?…just you wait! *wink* As for the rest of you, I apologize for tricking you with false porn! The real stuff is on its way! Also, quick question: should Poleepkwa be capitalized? I don't wanna offend any resident aliens.
Reviews inspire real prawn porn (No, really, it's a scientific fact!) Keep it up!
Whoa, changin' up the POV on ya!
Christopher's eyes fluttered open. He was sore all over; even his eyelids hurt.
At least the bleeding on my back seems to have ceased, he noticed. Thanks to Wikus…
He had the sudden nervous sensation of being watched. Shifting carefully out from under his son, who had ended up curled across the larger alien's shoulder, he sat up and looked around. His gaze landed on the form crouched on a folded blanket in the corner. Wikus was seated cross-legged, one elbow resting on his knee, propping up his chin with his human hand as he pierced Christopher with his uneven stare. Christopher felt a shiver run down his spine at the strangely predatory gleam in the human's eyes. His maxillae rattled anxiously against his face, the Poleepkwa equivalent of clearing one's throat, as he asked:
"Wikus? Are—are you alright?"
Wikus was silent for a brief moment, then he shook himself and looked at the worried creature like he had just woken up. "Huh? Oh. I'm fine. I'm just…" He looked distant. "Just a little stir-crazy. That's all. I just, uh, I was just thinking that I need to get out of the house for a bit. Y'know, stretch my legs…"
Christopher regarded him curiously, then said cautiously, "I do not think that would be a wise decision. You are still being hunted by the MNU. You could be recognized, especially if you go out in broad daylight."
Wikus exploded. "FUCK, man, if I have to stay in here for the rest of my fuckin' life then I may as well let them fuckin' kill me!"
The Poleepkwa raised his hands in a pacifying attempt. "Please, lower your voice. My son is still sleeping."
"Fuck!" Wikus turned and kicked a circuit board across the floor like a child having a tantrum. He saw the prawn flinch, and felt a stab of guilt.
Christopher spoke in a series of soothing clicks. "Please, Wikus, try to calm down. You are clearly agitated due to the transformation. You are in pain. You should take more of your medicine."
"And what about you?" The human gestured angrily, frustration fueling his rage. "You're probably in more pain than I fucking am, and we can't do shit about it! It's not bloody fair! And then last ni—" He turned away abruptly and fell silent, fists balled.
Christopher had very little idea what the human was going on about, but he stood and approached the raging being, laying a timid hand on Wikus' left shoulder. Wikus jumped a little at the contact, looking back at the taller creature in consternation. He leaned into the alien's touch for a split second before pulling away.
"Fuck, man, you are not helping."
Again, Christopher was confused by the human's words, but he lowered his hand. Wikus was quiet for a moment, calming himself down. When he turned and spoke, his voice had lost some its fury but none of its intensity.
"I need to get out of here for a while. I'm gonna go fucking crazy in here. I just need to be alone, in the fresh air. I'll be fucking careful; I just have to get away from this place, away from you-" Wikus was so caught up in his rant that he didn't see Christopher's antennae drop, or catch the sudden flare of pain in his eyes.
The prawn turned and hobbled over to the pile of blankets and rags that was his bed. He pulled out a fairly intact sheet, careful not to disturb his somehow-still-sleeping child, and passed it to the human, speaking in a low, strangely flat tone.
"If you must go out, I… suppose the junkyard would be the safest place. It's not too far from here; you should be able to get there unnoticed. Wear the sheet to hide your identity. You should return before dark, though; the gangs tend to become more active at night, even in the dump." He kept his eyes down, adding softly, "Please do be careful."
He remained standing in one place, not looking up until Wikus had passed him and gone out the door. He glanced over at his child's inert form.
"How long have you been awake, Little One?"
"I'm not awake. I'm asleep," Oliver insisted, eyes closed.
Christopher shook his head in amusement, crouching and tapping his son lightly on the head with his undamaged arm. "You don't sound very asleep to me."
The boy rolled over and looked up at his father solemnly.
"Are you and Mister Wikus breaking up?"
"What?" The older Poleepkwa had never heard that term before. Something he picked up from the human, I suppose.
"Are you fighting? Do you not like each other any more?"
Christopher hesitated. "We were… not fighting. As for the second question, I do not dislike him at all. I am worried for him. I seriously doubt he has ever been particularly fond of me, though."
Oliver shook his head condescendingly. "You both like each other. I can tell."
His father looked away, his expression unreadable.
After a thoughtful moment, the child asked, "By the way, what does 'fuck' mean?"
Christopher shot his son a quizzical look, then rolled his eyes and kneaded his brow, torn between exasperation and laughter. Another phrase taught by Wikus.
"It is… a human word, used to express strong feelings. It is not generally used in polite company."
Oliver nodded. "I understand. What are we going to do today while Mister Wikus is gone?"
Christopher gazed at the hatch leading to the ship. "We will work to get the repairs done as swiftly as possible, so that we can get help for Wikus."
"And then the three of us can go home together!" Oliver finished emphatically.
The big Poleepkwa didn't answer, opened the trapdoor, and together father and son went down and worked beneath the earth of a strange planet in secrecy, and Christopher didn't speak at all for the rest of the day.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
Hours later, just after darkness had fallen, they were interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open and shut, and something heavy landing on the floor above them. Both aliens froze, slowly turning their eyes upward. There was an instant of tense silence, then—
"Well, where are you?"
Christopher cautiously raised his head and called, "Wikus?"
"Christopher? Where the hell- oh, right." There was a scuffling sound, something being dragged away from the hatch. The human pried the little door open and stuck his head down. "C'mon up, wait'll you see the kind of swag I found in the dump!"
Stunned by the change in the human's attitude, and a little apprehensive, Christopher crawled up and out, his son following. Wikus stepped back, full of high-strung pride, and spread his right arm like a salesman displaying goods.
"Check it out."
Lying on the floor was a fully intact king-sized mattress.
Wikus was grinning from ear to ear. "Can you believe it? It was just sittin' there! I mean, yeah, it's got some bloodstains on it, but only on one side! You don't know how much of an improvement it's gonna be, mate! Have you ever slept on an actual mattress?"
Christopher shook his head mutely in disbelief.
"Well you're gonna! And look!" He pulled a package of Ghost Pops out of his back pocket. "I fuckin' love these things, and the bag isn't even opened! And look what else I found for you!"
The prawn blinked in surprise. "Me?"
"Yeah, you, who else am I talking to?" The human patted his pockets, trying to locate something. "Ah-ha!" Victoriously he waved the object about.
Christopher took the odd-looking contraption and examined it. "What is it?"
"It's a staple gun!" Wikus' smile was so wide that it was starting to hurt, but he didn't care. "We can use it to close up the cracks in your exoskeleton, so you'll heal!"
Christopher found he couldn't speak, waves of gratitude and confusion washing through him. Fortunately for him, Oliver piped up with just the right sentiment.
"Fuck!"