'You're the son of a ic'jit! I refuse to train tainted thwei.'

'He'll follow in the ways of his father. It's too risky to raise him.' 'You're weak because your father was weak.' 'Your mother no longer wishes to see you. You'll have to leave.' 'Stupid pup! You act the same way your father did!' 'Why the elders ever let you join our clan, I'll never know. But it doesn't take an ancient's wisdom to know that you were this clan's biggest mistake.'

"I think he's waking up."

Celtic was disturbed from his nightmare riddled dhi'ki by the sound of ooman speech. The unwanted memories were set aside in favor of watching the oomans with unwavering distrust. One was the ooman he currently despised the most. The male who had attacked Athena and had set the trap that got him in this situation in the first place. The second he didn't recognize. A man with unusual clothes that were colored white and reached the floor.

"How long has he been here?" The second ooman asked.

Celtic growled in frustration as he realized he wouldn't be able to understand anything they said without his mask. Lucinda had explained that she couldn't leave it with him in case they take it away permanently or suspect that it was brought to him.

"Eight days." The Paul ooman replied.

"Did you collect any urine samples?" The doctor asked. "Plenty." Paul replied in disgust. "Had a bucket under him the entire time." "What about feces and blood samples?" The look of disgust from Paul remained. "Yes, sadly. They await you in the lab." "Excellent. I will need sperm samples as well." "What?!" Paul exclaimed. The doctor scowled at him. "What did you expect? This is an investigation of a new species. Of course I am expected to collect sperm samples." "I am not collecting that for you." Paul replied.

The doctor gave a dramatic sigh. "Then I shall collect them myself. Sedate him, if you will." He gestured back to Celtic.

Celtic could only roar at them when they entered his cell and a needle was brought out. They jabbed him in the shoulder and he immediately fell into dhi'ki-de.

His father stood over him with the severed syra'yte of their clan's ancient in his hands.

He looked down to see his son Celtic looking up at him, and then he snarled at his own son. "You listen to me now, boy. Don't ever believe the lies this fool has told you. You learn from me only now." When Celtic made a move to protest, he was slapped viciously across the face. The blow was hard enough that a mandible was badly sprained and bruised for a long while.

The rest of the memory is a blur for a while, but eventually the crimes of his father were brought to light.

He was chased out of the clan and forced into hiding. Celtic saw him dash into the trees as the clan gave chase. He was left behind with his mother, who was grasping his hand too tightly and stood rigidly on the sidelines. Not a tear was shed for her failure of a mate.

The dream changed and Celtic was forced to relive the memory of his instructors shunning him when he eventually went back to training. They believed he would turn out exactly like his father, and refused to let him become stronger. Celtic begged and pleaded, but it was no use. Instead of mercy for his situation, he only received mistrust and scrutiny.

The dream changed once more to the most painful memory he had.

Worse than the day his father had murdered in cold blood was the day his mother had disowned and rejected him.

She had dragged him to the center of their village. In front of everyone, she declared him a failure and unfit for the right to merely survive. She tossed him to the mud and turned her back on him before leaving back to her home without a glance back. everyone else went back to their tasks at hand without sparing him a look. He wasn't the first pup to be rejected by their mother for some genetic transgression on his part. He would not be the last.

He laid in the mud and silently cried for hours and hours until the elders of the clan finally collected him and took him away for a council on what to do with him.

Celtic was once again disturbed from his sleep, but this time from a gentle hand shaking his shoulder.

Celtic jolted up, startling his visitor who jumped back a step. The intruder was wearing his mask and had a familiar tall, feminine appearance. The ooman stepped back and took off Celtic's mask. "A. . .thee. . .na. . ." Celtic spoke out, a sense of relief and excitement over coming him. "Hey big guy." Athena softly greeted back and kneeled down next to him. He had no idea what she just said, but leaned his neck forward slightly as she placed his mask back over his face. "I managed to swipe the keys." She said, every word translating back to him. "I can take off the cuffs for a while, but I'll have to put them back on when I leave."

He didn't know what she meant by 'cuffs' until she produced an oddly shaped piece of compressed n'ithya and unlocked his shackles with it.

As soon as his shackles came off, she gasped in shock. All around his wrists were nearly blackened burn marks. Celtic was shocked as well, but he hadn't expected the damage to be this bad. He tilted his head in surprise when Athena's hands gently grasped his and held them up closer to her dekna for inspection. Her lips pulled downward, but Celtic wasn't knowledgeable enough on human expressions to know what that one meant. "The cuffs did these?" She asked.

Celtic nodded his head and handed the mask back to her, though Athena noticed that he flinched while moving his wrist too much.

Athena put the mask on and Celtic lowered his hands. "How are the others?" He asked, softly clicking at her. Athena gave the mask back and responded. "They're fine. They're all worried about you though. And so am I. You were crying in your sleep. Are you alright?" Celtic grew startled by this revelation and reached up with his clawed handss to feel his mandibles once he'd taken off the mask. They were wet and his eyes did sting a bit as well. He clacked his mandibles in irritation at himself.

His kind didn't tolerate crying. Any mourning was done in private and you hid the evidence of it if you wanted to make an appearance in public again. Celtic internally berated himself for letting himself be weak. This was the worst time to show any weakness!

Athena took the mask off of his face and put it on while he looked down at the floor.

"I'm fine." He clicked to her once she had the mask on. "I didn't even notice I was. . .shedding water. . ." Athena gave the mask back. "Did the cuffs cause it? I know burns like that can be painful-" She was interrupted by Celtic shaking his head and handing the mask over. "M-di, it wasn't pain. . .at least, not the kind you get from a wounded body." He didn't know why he admitted that last part to her. He hadn't intended to.

Athena frowned and placed the mask on him. "Then what pain was it?" She softly asked.

Celtic frowned and when she placed the mask back on, he found himself answering before he could stop himself. "Just bad memories." He wanted to smack himself for admitting it, but it was out now. The mask was once again traded and Athena took a seat next to him in his cell. Celtic noticed how their thighs were touching and he didn't know why that fact made him happy. "Did the memories come in dreams?" Athena asked. "You were asleep when I came in here."

Celtic's lower mandibles drooped into a frown as the conversation continued. He didn't want to open up to her, but it as too late now. "Sei-i. . ."

Before Celtic could react, Athena's soft hand moved over and slid over the top of his. She lightly twined their fingers together and Celtic felt a painful thump in his chest along with burning sensation in the sides of his mandibles. He openly stared at her, but the look in her dekna stopped him from demanding an explanation. He didn't know what the look was for sure, but he was too afraid of guessing it and getting it wrong. "Celtic." Her soft voice spoke his name. "What happened?" She gently asked, giving him an encouraging look.

This sudden affectionate side from her brought out his desire to open up. Before he knew it, he was explaining everything to her.

His father had murdered an ancient that ruled their clan. He did not agree with some of the ways the ancient upheld and interpreted their hunter's code. His crime was found out and he was branded a bad-blood, forever condemned to exile or death when found. Being the son of a bad-blood meant he was no longer trusted. Family ties and genetics made his kind suspicious of him. They thought he was doomed to be like his father. His mother publicly disowned him, as was her right. A mother could refuse to raise a pup if she deemed it unfit to live. Being his father's son, she believed the suspicions as well and thought him doomed to be a criminal like his father.

The clan elders took him to five other clans to see if any of them would take him in. That's how he ended up in his current one.

"The ancient that over saw this clan brought me in. No one argues with the demands of an ancient once it's been said." Celtic explained. Athena quickly handed the mask back, a question burning on her tongue. "So Yeyinde kind of adopted you?" Celtic shook his head and gave her back the mask. "No, it was a different ancient. This clan has had three since I've been in it. The second is still alive, but he is back on our home planet with the rest of our clan. Yeyinde is just the over-seer of the hunting parties."

Athena frowned and placed the mask back in his hands. "Celtic?" She began. "Is. . .what happened in your childhood, is that why you hated marking me? Because you didn't want to let this clan down?" Celtic's heart leaped in his chest as she just revealed the exact reason he had not wanted to mark her as his equal. This clan had given him a second chance. He didn't want to let them down.

Celtic actually felt himself trembling as he looked at the ground and the shame from his previous actions came back and hit him full force. "S. . .sei-i. . ."

As if his heart couldn't pound any faster, Athena went and did something that caused him to feel his heart react in a way that only happened when he ran full force. She flung her arms around him and gave him a chi'ytei that was tight and unbreakable. Celtic froze in shock with mandibles spread out wide. His mind was bombarded with several thoughts at once and he couldn't organize them. 'Why is she giving me so much affection?' 'Do I deserve it?' 'Her breasts are really soft.' 'Why do I want to hold her back just as tightly?' 'She feels so warm.' 'She's soft all over.' 'Why do I feel like burying my face in her neck?' 'Why do I feel like never letting her go?' 'Why am I suddenly so scared and yet so excited?' 'Please. . .don't ever leave my side. . . please don't ever let go of me.'

Athena had instinctively hugged him on a split second decision and was relieved when he finally hugged her back moments later.

It all made sense to her now! Why he was so prideful and why he had acted the way he did. He just wanted to make his new clan proud of him and didn't want anything sabotaging that. That didn't excuse what he did, but. . .she couldn't be mad at him for it anymore. Humans did the same thing, for almost similar reasons as well. The crave for affection, attention, acceptance and praise was strong within any species that thrived on social interaction.

Celtic had just been fighting to have all them for his entire life and he hadn't even known it.

They hugged for several minutes. It might have been hours for all Athena knew. All she cared about at that moment was holding Celtic and giving him some of the affection she had realized he so desperately needed. She let Celtic experiment with the hug and move himself around to hug her in different positions. He'd bury his face in her neck every now and then and his arms would circle under hers to hug her tightly when he did. He'd change position again and circle his arms around her neck and Athena didn't mind since he'd start to play with her hair when he did that.

When her alarm went off, both persons jumped at the sound. Athena looked at her watch and sighed. "I've got to go. . ."

Celtic's heart lurched once more when she said that. He want to immediately and immaturely beg her to stay, but he held back because he knew it was best if she left. He held very still as she placed the restraints back on him and stood up with his mask in her hands. She placed it on his face once more and spoke. "The break out is happening tomorrow. Be ready to run. Scar and Chopper will bust you out of here."

With that, she took the mask, turned invisible, and left. As she walked out the door, Celtic realized with startling clarity the possible reason why his heart was now thumping wildly in his chest with her around.

And that made him more terrified than anything.

Author's note: Translation time!

-ic'jit: bad blood

-thwei: blood

-dhi'ki: unconcious

-dhi'ki-de: The Long Sleep (Death), unconscious/coma

-syra'yte: head

-n'ithya: earth/dirt/land/ground (or in this case, metal)

-dekna: eye/eyes/eyeball

-M-di: no

-Sei-i: yes/affirmative

-chi'ytei: hug/embrace

I am very, very, very sorry if Celtic seemed too out of character for this chapter! I honestly hadn't intended for it to be as emotional as it did, but life happens. I ended up liking how it ended, so I stuck with it.

Thank you all for reading!

Also, I might be getting a second job, so updates may only be a once a week thing from now on. Thank you all for reading, once again! Comment down below your thoughts and I will try to reply as much as possible.

To my reader: careninanina: Si, La historia tiene el mismo nombre.
I really hope that translated well. I'd send this to you in PM, but you have PM deactivated.