(A/N: NOTE this chapter is a flashback in Niki's life)

Elisir
by The Great Red Dragon

Chapter 10

Night fell over the darker hemisphere of the city-dominated planet, moving the activation of streetlights, and neon signs, urging potential customers to give into their lusts, became brighter. Business, for the most part, was only picking up, but for a certain brothel-house, marked by a sign as 'Species', there was an unexpected lapse in customers entering through the glass doors (much to the anger of the fat, expectant owner). Occupants of the house, brought there over time by illegal trade, oppression, and desperation, took this blessed reprieve to rest their used bodies by watching television, napping, or finding a small bite to eat.
That is, all but one.

In the isolated room that housed the twin vending machines, on the couch, sat a small, sparsely-clothed creature, curled up and shivering uncontrollably. Salvaged, a vest around his shoulders was the greatest piece of clothing on him, save a faded pair of slacks that he wore. The vest was dirty, but it didn't seem to matter: with some desperation, he seemed to be trying to cover (or conceal) himself beneath the mangy little article, as though he were very cold. He sniffled, and with a strained whimper, tried to pull the vest over his shoulders while keeping his legs covered as well. Above his eyebrow was an ugly-looking bruise that seemed at least a few hours old, and his lower lip seemed a bit swollen.
A sound of the building settling in the corner set his scared eyes into a frenzy, peering in all directions, as though he feared someone or something in the vicinity. Pulling the vest up to his chin, he whispered something tearfully under his breath, afraid to raise his voice at all;
"Help me…somebody, help me…"

To his right, the door clicked and was pushed open, causing the tiny creature to whimper and quail in dread. He hid his face as best as he could in the vest, wondering if whether or not it was too late to fool the intruder by feigning sleep.
There was silence. The door remained open, and there was no sound of it closing – only that of another's breathing in the doorway, most likely eyeing the quivering lump on the couch.
The tan creature held his breath, and prayed with all his might that he wouldn't be approached: that whoever was in the doorway would just turn around and leave him alone.
It seemed like minutes passed in this uncomfortable situation before the tiny guy allowed himself to take a sliver of a breath. It was so quiet; he didn't know if the onlooker was still there. He hadn't heard him leave, and he hadn't sensed him entering, either. Cautiously, he raised his eyes out from behind his dirty vest and peered out from behind it.
To his greatest disdain, there was indeed someone in the doorway – standing there, staring at him.

The little guy blinked through his tears and took in his intruder.

His preliminary impression was that of surprise – at first, he wasn't sure whether he was looking at a male or a female. Whatever gender this someone was, it was a species that the peach-colored creature had never seen before: short, purple-skinned, and raptor-like. What seemed to speak most loudly about the character, though, seemed to be the clothes it wore – an azure-colored, open-chested nylon shirt (a flat chest was noted – a male?), dark-red, bell-bottomed slacks with a light trim, and flat-soled, heeled boots. His claws, short and sharp, seemed to be lacquered. His eyes were bright, and lined with eye-liner. His lips were brighter than seemed natural…lipstick?
The two of them stared at eachother – one out of fear and uncertainty, the other out of assumed curiosity. Across the far hall, a large-headed customer opened a door, leaving with a contented sigh.
The odd creature shifted its weight to one leg and cocked its head slightly.

"Newbie?", it asked in a voice that was high, but seemed to be masculine, nonetheless.

As the raptor-like guy said this, he let the door fall closed behind him with a small click, and the peach-colored creature on the couch recoiled slightly. The flamboyant reptile didn't seem to notice this, or simply didn't react in any expectant way on it: he raised his hand to his head to remove an imaginary hat, and gave a silly-looking bow, setting his right foot in front of the other.

"Welcome to the promised land of selling one's self", he said loftily.
"Please, make yourself right at home, until the loudspeaker calls your name for service. Speaking of names, what's yours?"

He raised his eyes to the smaller creature's, who didn't respond and looked away, as though searching for a way (any way) out.

"Ah, I'm sorry; I should've known", the raptor said, taking a step towards the little creature.
"A smart furball wouldn't give his name to just anybody who asked, now would he?"

He extended his hand, upon which were set two silver rings.

"Name's Mel", the raptor-creature introduced himself, grinning.
"Name given to me by birth – not an alias used by the expensive hoes, like 'Diva-De' or 'Pussy-Pussy'. No, I'm just a regular, unfortunate fuck with a regular, inter-gender name. Yeah, it's weird; I know. What's your name?"

The peach-colored creature eyed the intruder's extended hand, hoping that it would be withdrawn if he didn't respond…but it wasn't: it stayed outstretched and extended. The small one raised his eyes to the raptor's face, and found him wearing yet another insuppressible grin, made almost freakishly odd by his extensive make-up.

"Sorry about the 'furball' remark", he apologized, still grinning.
"But I promise I won't bite…what's your name?"

Slowly, the small creature raised his hand as well, and cautiously set it into the clawed hand of his few-found acquaintance.

"…N-Nice to meet you…", he managed quietly.
"…I…really don't have a name…"

"No name?", the raptor named Mel asked, wringing the creature's small, furry hand.
"Well, any nicknames you go by? Aliases? Initials? A serial number?"

A sudden rush was sent through the small creature at the mention of serial numbers, but it died down inside of him quickly enough; after all, how could this guy know about him? – about Experiments?

"…Six-two-zero", the Experiment mumbled under his breath.

"Sorry; didn't understand that", Mel replied.
"Come again?"

"…Six-two-zero", the Experiment repeated, a bit louder this time.

"Bet that's your length, huh?"

The Experiment wasn't sure what he meant by this, but once more, that didn't seem to bother Mel, who sat down right next to him as though he were invited.
Unsure of what to make of this close open-ness, the peach Experiment shifted slightly to the end of the couch.

"I'm just kidding; just kidding", Mel said, stretching out his legs in front of himself.
"Well, then again, I wouldn't know…I mean, how would I know you like that, huh? Where're you from?"

The questioning and the nonstop talking was making the Experiment's stomach churn and giving him a headache; he groaned in return and bent forward onto his knees.

"Hey, you okay?", came Mel's voice, suddenly amidst with concern.
"You feeling alright?"

"No", the Experiment groaned in reply, and gave a small sob.
"I think I'm gonna be sick…"

"…Think you can make it to the bathroom?", Mel asked, trying to insert a bit of humor.

But the Experiment didn't think it was funny. He felt sick, violated, and afraid, and, at the time, couldn't hold it in anymore; he pushed his face into his knees and started crying dryly, digging his claws into his dirty, salvaged vest.

"Oh! Oh, hey, hey, now…don't cry; I didn't mean to upset you", Mel said quickly.

He reached out to put a hand on the Experiment's back, but it hadn't rested there for a moment before the Experiment jerked away. Mel almost looked a bit hurt at this.

"…I'm not going to hurt you", he tried to say, quietly.

"I don't want to be touched!", the Experiment cried out, tears of exasperation streaming down his face.
"I don't ever want to be touched again! Never! Not again! Not like-…that…"

He dissolved back into his sobs after trailing off, leaving Mel sitting there, not knowing what to do. The raptor-like creature, however, had a pretty sure idea of what the little guy was talking about.

"…Tough times behind ya?", he asked quietly.

The Experiment sniffed loudly and raised his head, his chin quivering.

"I-I came here…b-because they s-said they had a j-j-job offering", he choked, staring into his damp hands as he did his best to talk.
"B-But wh-when I got here, th-they….they beat me so b-bad I th-thought w-wass g-gonna die…and wh-when I couldn't m-move anymore, they said I w-would have to work h-here from n-now on…and if I tried t-to r-r-run away, they said they'd k-k-kill me…"

Once more, he pressed his face into his knees, his ungiving sobs jarring him every other second.
Mel sighed. He nodded compassionately, and went to touch the Experiment, but, remembering his initial reaction, thought better of it and put his hands into his lap. He laid his head back for a moment and nodded again.

"Yeah…that sounds right", he said softly.
"I mean…nobody's here because they want to be…"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue, and waved it in front of the little guy until he noticed it. While he blew his nose noisily, Mel crossed his legs and eyed the Experiment sympathetically.

"This place is run by the big boss-man, enforced by his two cronies, which you've already met, unfortunately", he began, handing the Experiment another tissue to dry his eyes with.
"They get about twenty percent of what the boss takes from us, and get to fuck for free whenever they want to. Yeah, it's only two of them, but I'm afraid that that's enough to, uh, 'keep us in check', if ya know what I mean. They'll only get so many people to be hookers – just enough for them to be able to manage. Counting you, we're about twenty-five in here."

The Experiment cried out at being mentioned and cried into his hands, his balled-up tissues lying on the floor.

"C-Couldn't anybody g-go t-to the p-p-police?", he whispered through his tears.

Mel gave an acrid guffaw and shook his head.

"I don't think so", he said flatly, with contempt.
"The cops haven't been in this area for years, and the nearest station is too far away to run to; you'd be caught."

"B-But it's only t-two p-people", the little guy choked, peeking through his fingers at Mel.
"How c-can t-t-two p-people f-find someb-body in a h-h-huge city?"

"Well, everybody knows that every whore-house in this area is controlled by the local mob", Mel answered, the sharpness in his voice still directed at the subject.
"They usually don't show up here for pleasure, but every once in a while, you see one of them ol' horse-heads come here for business. Everybody knows they take fifty percent of the profit, and I think they'd be ready to catch a runaway from their money-makin'…'sides, the cops probably couldn't care less about us. If one of us managed to show up at that station, the first thing they'd most likely do is check us for proper identification, t'make sure we weren't no illegal immigrants."

He shook his head once more and looked down at the Experiment, feeling true, heartfelt pity for the miserable, scared creature that had fallen into the web of the greedy spiders.

"I'm sorry to say so…", he said, as gently as he could.
"But quite realistically, I think that now that you're in this…it's gonna be a while before you're gonna have a chance to get out."

The Experiment squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his large ears, whining loudly; this couldn't be true, this couldn't be true…
He shifted his body, and a sharp pain emitted from his rear; he cried out and jerked forward, biting his lip and cursing tearfully in his exasperation.

"They made you…?", Mel asked him carefully, once the Experiment managed to gingerly settle back into a sitting position.

The Experiment's face flushed in shame, and he hugged himself as best as he could; yes, he knew what Mel was referring to – it was all too fresh in his mind.

"…They made me…", he whispered quietly.
"They made me, w-with some I didn't even know…and it hurt so much…"

His face burning as much as his abused butt, the tiny Experiment turned away from Mel and tried to hold back his emotional stings.
Mel shook his head in disgust – not at the Experiment, but at the story he knew all too well. In honesty, he would've wanted to tell the unfortunate newcomer how sorry he was that such a delicate, beautiful individual such as him had been thrust into this ensnaring position…although he knew nothing he could say could make the little guy feel any better about where he was and what had happened to him (besides, despite that Mel thought he was gorgeous, he wasn't sure if this was the best time to tell him how good he thought he looked – after all, he might not even like guys).
Feeling both anger, disgust, sympathy, and pity at the same time, he reached into another pocket of his pants and pulled out a small, blue tube. He held it out to the Experiment, who caught sight of it and looked at Mel questioningly.

"Here", the raptor-like being said, extending his offering.
"It's cool gel. Go into the bathroom and apply some to where it hurts; it'll help quite a bit."

The Experiment took the tube slowly, studying it with his wet eyes. He looked up at Mel, and asked him quietly;
"…Why are you…?"

Mel shrugged his shoulders.

"Just in my nature to be a nice guy, I guess. Go use that stuff, okay?"

Carefully, the Experiment slid off of the couch and walked slowly towards the door that he knew led to the bathroom. He began to push the door open, but turned to look back at Mel in mixture of uncertainty, confusion, and discernment.

"Don't worry", Mel told him, before the Experiment had opened his mouth.
"I'll wait right here for you."

The Experiment nodded slowly, and turned back to walk into the cold bathroom.
Once inside a stall, he locked the door and unscrewed the lid of the tube and squeezed a bit of the blue gel onto the tip of his furry finger. He sniffed its neutral smell, and noted that it was indeed a bit cool. Taking the chance to follow Mel's advice, he pulled down his pants and reached his hand behind himself to apply the solvent. The coolness hurt momentarily, but sure enough, the stinging subsided considerably within seconds.
He exited the bathroom a few minutes later, after washing his face, and found Mel, true to his word, still sitting on the couch. When he saw the Experiment, he grinned.

"Hope that helped", he said.

Quietly, the Experiment walked back over to the couch and handed Mel back the tube.

"…Thank you", he mumbled quietly, and sat down.

There was a subdued silence in the small room, broken only, after a few seconds, by the swishing of two heads turning: for a moment, the Experiment and Mel looked at eachother plainly, without boundaries or limitations, both having taken the same chance at the same time. Seconds later, they both turned away, as if embarrassed for their doubled brashness.
The two of them stared ahead blankly, both of them contemplating their own respective thoughts and problems, which, coincidently, in some way, included the person they were sitting beside.
Finally, after what was only about twenty seconds, the Experiment carefully turned his head towards Mel and asked, quietly;
"Why me?"

"Pardon?", the raptor asked, turning towards the little guy in surprise.

"Why'd they take me?", the little Experiment asked.
"I didn't do anything…why'd they have to take me here? Why can't I be somewhere else?"

Mel contemplated his answer to this question, then shrugged his shoulders to the last respective ones.

"You gotta ask God that", he stated simply, without patronizing.
"Why you're not somewhere else? – you gotta ask God about that. Or think about how you got here in the first place. Now, you're here because you're ignorant and naïve. That's not an insult…you probably just didn't suspect anything when you read or heard about the notice to some wonder-job when you landed on this planet. How much money did you hear you were gonna be paid?"

"…It just said it was going to be a well-paying job…'domestic work'…"

"Yeah; all too true. Sounded great, didn't it? But you're new here, and to the world, obviously – anybody else here would know what a load of crap such an advertisement would be. Pure bait. Of course, there's plenty of new faces turning up on this planet, regularly; it seems to be a kind of dumping-ground for people out of luck with the worst to lose. How'd you get here, anyway? Where were you before?"

The Experiment didn't answer this – he turned his head away again, biting his tongue and hoping that Mel would forget the question.
Mel sat, awaiting an answer for a short while, wondering if the little guy had even understood him…but quickly realized the obvious.

"Oh, I'm sorry…again", he apologized hurriedly.
"That's none of my business…sorry I asked; I got carried away. Sorry."

"…It's okay", the Experiment assured him, looking back at him.
"It's just…well, the part about just getting here is bad enough…and before that, I…"

He broke off, but Mel was there to pick up for him.

"You don't have to tell me", he said.
"It really doesn't matter, right now – all that matters is that you had the bad luck of being stuck here, and now, you've gotta survive it."

The morbid side of his brain laughed hollowly as the Experiment heard this – after all, what use was there in surviving, whether he got out of this or not? Where else was there to go?

"Why?", he asked, a bit dully.

"Because", Mel replied, reaching back into his pocket;
"It says so on my fortune-cookie strip."

"Huh?"

The Experiment leaned in close enough to smell a hint of cologne on Mel as the raptor held a white strip of paper between his clawed hands, with a message in Turian printed on it.

"See, here's what it says", Mel forwarded, leaning towards the Experiment.
"'Today, you will meet someone who will remain a continuous influence throughout your life'"

He looked at the Experiment, closer than ever, and grinned loftily.

"'a continuous influence throughout your life'", he repeated, before crumpling up the paper and throwing it across the room.
"Which means that you gotta stick around long enough to be the for-better-or-for-worse for me from now on."

The Experiment found this, once more, morbidly silly, a bit disturbing, and even a bit aggravating – stupid fortune cookie, and an even stupider raptor for believing such nonsense.

"Suppose that's not true?", he challenged.
"Suppose I die tomorrow?"

"I suppose I'd die as well", Mel replied, still smiling as he shrugged.
"But not without you doing something significant first, though. But you won't die – you haven't been exposed to the light yet, and you wouldn't die without a chance of being saved."

"…What?"

"Oh, don't worry about it; just take for granted that you're not gonna up and die tomorrow."

Far from being reassured, the Experiment looked down and frowned deeply.

"…So that's it?", he asked.
"I'm gonna spend the rest of my life doing…this?"

"What, talking to me?", Mel asked.
"I didn't think I was such a bad conversationalist, but if you say so-"

"This is serious!", the Experiment shouted, looking up angrily at Mel, with fresh tears in his eyes.
"I don't want to be here for the rest of my life! I don't want to have to do this! I never wanted to be here!"

"…Nobody ever wanted to be here", Mel said quietly, realizing he had gone too far.

"But not me!", the Experiment yelled, as the tears began to run down his face.
"Not me! Not me! Do you have any idea what I am!"

"…You're a very good-looking somebody, if I may be honest."

"Shut up! I don't want to talk to you!"

The Experiment jumped off of the couch and ran into the corner of the small room, ducking out of sight between the wall and the massive automat.
Mel said nothing. Though he cursed himself for pushing the point this far, he said nothing, and simply waited, unsure of whether or not he should make the first move. However, soon enough, he looked back up, woken by fresh sobs, coming from the direction of the shadowed corner.
He stood up from the couch and made his way over to the machine. Peeking behind it, he found the little guy curled up tightly, shaking as he cried into his hands.
Mel lowered himself to his knees, resting himself briefly on his thighs. Then, tenderly, he reached out with a single hand, and petted the Experiment across his bony, furry back. Somehow, he knew the Experiment wouldn't flinch, and he didn't – he just kept on crying, and Mel continued to stroke him tenderly.

"…I really thought I could it…", the little guy whispered after a while, raising his head just enough to be heard by Mel.
"After I left…I dared to think that I could make it…but this…this is just as bad as it was before…"

He sobbed once, gasping for air as though he were suffocating.

"N-Never this…when I thought I was…I never w-wanted this…I never wanted to feel like this…"

"Neither of us did", Mel whispered back, setting his hand gently on the Experiment's shoulder.

The little creature looked up at this, back into Mel's ever-bright eyes.

"…W-What?", he asked.

"…What I mean is, I can understand what you're going through", Mel replied, rubbing the little guy's shoulder.
"I mean…I'm here too, ain't I?"

The Experiment reached to his face with one hand and tried to wipe away a tear with the back of his wrist.

"H-How'd you…come h-here?"

"…Long story", Mel replied.
"Somewhat along the lines of what I presume you're saying. But that's a story for another time – it's late, and you need to get some rest; we can share the room I called."

His first, instinctive thought automatically told him to respond that he didn't want to go to sleep, but, almost at once, it fell in immediate contrast with how the raptor seemed to be trying to help him. Oddly enough, even though he wanted to feel suspicious about this presence of kindness in such a dark place of misery, he didn't sense anything dishonest in the air about Mel.

"…Why?", he asked again, blinking his damp eyes at Mel.

"…Why what?", Mel asked.

"Why are you being so nice to me?", the Experiment asked, his voice soft.
"Nobody's ever been this nice to me before…"

Mel shrugged again.

"Well, they probably didn't realize what a great guy you are", he replied, giving the Experiment's shoulder a friendly shake.

The expression of unconvincedness of the Experiment's face, however, prompted him slightly tone his grin and enunciate.

"…I suppose I just like you, honestly", he said, his voice quieter, as though he were dropping his usual poise.
"Not like that, in any…sexual way, or anything…I just saw you earlier, and I liked you from the moment I saw you. Don't ask me why; it's really not natural for me. I was lying when I said before that I was a nice guy, actually - I'm an Arhk, and we're usually assholes about everything. You're the exception; I guess…the one in a billion."

Unsure of what to make of this, the Experiment only sat up and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. With a smile on his face so delicate it seemed almost completely out-of-character for him, Mel reached forward and for a moment, placed his clawed hand over the Experiment's furry one on the ground. The little guy looked up at Mel in surprise and question. The Arhk only continued to smile.

"Don't you worry", he told him softly, so only the two of them could hear.
"It seems worse now, but I'll look after you; I promise. I'll be there for you whenever you need me – I swear."

This would be a promise that, as the passing two years proved, would not be broken. Though still feeling very lost, confused, and scared, the Experiment, at that moment, laid all of his trust in Mel, knowing that the Arhk was the only way he would be able to live through what lay ahead of him. Symbolically blind, he allowed Mel to take his hand and guide him through fog and fire, through stinging rain and freezing snow. Through Mel, the Experiment learned the arts needed to save himself from the onslaught of prostitution, savoring what money he managed to hold onto, valuing the numbing effects of alcohol when necessary, and keeping himself sane by spending as much time as he could with the raptor – talking, listening, learning…and even, after some time, laughing, in ways he had never laughed before.
He couldn't foresee the extent of the two years that would lay in front of him, but by becoming tougher than he ever could've imagined himself, the Experiment managed to live through the days, valuing every bit of new knowledge (and even the hard experience) that would help him survive in the violent new world.

His name was, like most of what he owned, was salvaged – specifically, from a report detailing the death of a popular actress that Mel felt looked somewhat like him. He held onto it, storing his Experiment's number in the back of his head, grateful now that when he heard Mel say 'Nikita' or 'Niki' (he liked the abbreviated version more), that he was speaking to him.
Far from being the last thing given to him, Mel devoted almost every free second of his time to the Experiment, sharing with him everything he held, including food, money, and always a bed to share the night with (as friends, until much later, uniformly).

Despite the never-ceasing air of deprivation that humided throughout the brothel, Mel was always the light to look for whenever Niki felt down – whether he was waiting for Niki with a bag of dinner, or making him laugh when he felt like crying. Thus, despite that he took in all he could, Niki never truly learned too much about his fellow unfortunates in the brothel. They didn't seem to like either him or Mel, assuming that since they spent so much time together, they were gay, which was ostracized even in the lowest of places. Strangely enough, this didn't bother the Experiment as much as it might have in another situation; Mel was the only friend he'd ever need, he decided, as Mel was every friend that he ever could have. To him, Mel was the greatest, most perfect individual in the entire universe – quite possibly, the only good thing amidst an infinite number of evil manias.

But most important to him, what he reminded himself every time he laid down to sleep, and every time it felt harder to live, was that no matter what happened, Mel would always be with him – to soothe him, make him laugh, and continue to be the only thing that made life worth living.
Even then, before the two fateful nights that changed his life once more, he knew that he loved Mel: he knew that he loved Mel with all his heart, and that he'd be willing to die for him if ever he should need to.