She hadn't slept. She was pretty sure that the alien didn't either. The difference was she had spent the night in a chair, and he had her large comfortable bed. She stretched out her back, causing several pops and a groan. She looked at the stairs, then at the window. Walking to the window and pulling back the curtains revealed snow. It was packed against the glass. She frowned and made her way back up the stairs to her room. The alien appeared to have moved around as much of the bed as he could, but hadn't actually left it.
He looked at her with some disdain, or it looked like disdain. She really couldn't tell if his facial expressions meant the same thing that hers did. Like how nodding meant 'yes' in America but 'no' in Greece. The growling wasn't helping, as he seemed to make the noise no matter what sort of mood he was in.
This was going to be a journey, and she found herself really wanting it to be over soon. She moved towards the bed and he looked at her, tensing as she came close, causing her to freeze. She frowned and pointed at his leg. He looked at his leg then at her. She moved forward again and reached for his leg. He didn't move away, but watched her intently. She made deliberate and obvious motions to unwrapping the bandage and moving the wooden spoons.
The sudden appearance of his hand against his calf caused her to jump, which made him freeze and watch her. Both waited for something to happen. He was the first to move, returning to inspecting his leg, rubbing the wound where the bone had ruptured the skin. He rattled again and began to press and prod his leg, adding pressure until he roared suddenly.
"Well don't do that!" she said smacking his hands away from his legs. He grunted at her and watched as she took his leg back over and rewrapped it. He didn't stop her or try to do it himself, but just watched. Once she got the splint back on she looked up at him and pointed at his chest. His clawed hand rubbed against it, tilting his head and looking at her.
She moved but stopped, realizing that, not knowing if the facial expressions meant the same thing or not, she had no way of pantomiming 'pain.' She lost herself in thought, trying to figure out how to explain what she meant, and debated parroting his roar, when Smaug, previously forgotten on her shoulder, hissed loudly. She glanced at Smaug and froze. The alien had leaned down to observe her, very closely, and his mandibles were close enough that if he spread them, they'd touch her face. She moved away cautiously, stepping away from the bed, giving him a cautious look, then folded her arms in thought. She looked up at the alien as he grunted at her. He moved his arm and touched his back, then made the gesture that had commonly come to be known as 'where is?'
She made the gesture for 'hidden' again, and he extended his hand and turned his palm up in the 'give' gesture. She hesitated, looking at his open hand. She then turned, and he growled at her, so she flipped back around and backed out of the room. She made it to the stairs and moved down to the cold storage. She struggled for the backpack thing she had hidden behind the canned foods. Once she had it she moved back up, gathered Smaug from the back of the chair and moved back up the stairs.
She moved forward and handed him the backpack thing and he didn't grab it. She blinked, brow furrowing as he looked over the backpack, and then looked at her in an expression that was maybe surprise.
"What?" she asked with a shake of her head.
He didn't respond, but instead took the backpack away from her and laid it on the bed, round-side up. He touched it very gently with his claws, and the backpack opened up. Hannah found herself staring with curiosity. There were things inside the pack, that looked vaguely medical in purpose, but she wasn't going to assume. His black claws trailed along various instruments before taking out something that looked like a scalpel. She watched as he inspected the blade and then leaned back. Too late did Hannah cry for him to stop.
He cut himself, making an incision in his chest, horizontally. Bright thick glowing green blood pooled out across his skin and onto the bed. Hannah backed away to the wall, knowing there was nothing she could do now but watch the train wreck. He was roaring, obviously in pain. Once the incision was made he heaved breaths, and dropped the scalpel back into the kit. He then pulled out plier-looking things and dug these into the newly made wound, roaring again. There was a solid click and he removed the pliers and heaved another breath, slowly putting these in the kit as well.
He finally removed some cylindrical thing and applied it to one side of the wound. There was a heavy clicking, and he moved the cylinder down, and Hannah could see he was essentially stapling the wound closed. Once he was finished, he put these back into the kit, looking them over and taking heavy breaths. He searched the sparse equipment and pulled out a syringe that was empty and slammed it back down, growling. He closed the kit with a touch of his claws and sat still for a moment, heaving.
Hannah was shivering from how tight her muscles were. Her breathing was heavy and shaky, unbelieving of what she had just witnessed. The alien grunted and looked over at her, regarding her unmoving figure before moving the backpack and setting it onto his shoulders.
He was going to keep it, and she was not going to fight him for it.
It took a minute after the overall completion of the alien's self-surgery before Hannah moved away from the wall. The movement drew the alien's attention as it took deep heavy breaths. He shifted on the bed, tilting his head and she glanced at the door. So did he. He became tense suddenly, as if ready to spring, waiting for her move. She ignored her instincts and forced herself to walk to the fire, and put more logs on the coals.
Only after a minute did she get upset at the fact that there was green phosphorescent blood staining her bed. She glowered over at the bed, the alien preoccupied with looking at the room, and seemed to have half a mind to try getting up again. He was still recovering from what he had done to himself; apparently he didn't have any pain killer in that kit of his. She wasn't about to have him try out hers. She thinned her lips, holding in a yell and pointing at him, then gesturing to the bed, before clenching her fist tight. She realized that she really couldn't do anything about it now, and that blowing up at him could result in her death. She needed to remove herself from the area, so backed up, basically moon-walking out of the room.
She went downstairs, deposited Smaug on the chair and threw on her coat and gloves. She opened the door to the wall of white and took a breath. She dug a tunnel into the snow and used her memory to navigate around the cabin. The cold helped cool her temper, and gave her something to do. Just because there was an injured alien in the house didn't mean that she could skip her chores.
She followed the roar of the generator to its location and cleared it free of snow. It would be good for another day before she would need to worry about filling it up again. She then went around the house in a circle to the ladder secured against the northern facing side and half-climbed, half dug her way up. She broke the surface not very far above her head and climbed up. The warmth of the cabin was doing a good job of melting the snow on the roof, but she didn't want to risk a cave in, so got to work clearing the snow off.
As she worked she heard a window open and blinked, moving to the edge and then around the edge until she found the red window. The alien was leaning out, breath creating heavy clouds around his face as he leaned out and looked around at the winter wonderland. She bent down and called down, "hey!"
The alien perked up and looked around before glancing over its shoulder up at her on the roof. It turned to face her normally, clicking and steaming.
"Get back inside!" the alien grunted and looked out at the snow again, gripping the windowsill and leaning even further out the window, dreadlocks falling across his shoulders. Hannah knelt down on the roof and took of her glove. She leaned as far down as she could and swung the glove, the fingers smacking against his back, and then his face. He snorted and stumbled back in. She heard crashing and froze, then she bit down on the glove and bent over the roof, twisting her body to descend feet-first.
She hung from the edge of the roof and caught the bottom of the window with her boot. She eased herself down to a perch on the windowsill and saw the alien lying on the ground on his back. She hopped inside breathing heavily and sniffing, moving over to the alien and leaning over it. This was a stupid thing to do, she realized later, but it didn't do anything but look up at her from the floor. She left him there and shut the window, shedding her other glove and coat and reaching down, touching his shoulder.
"Come on you, back in bed," he flinched away from her touch and sat up, running his claws over the splint and jerking his hand away as she smacked his fingers, "stop that," he pushed her away, but not roughly, and pulled himself back into the bed, making it creak and groan under his weight. She smacked her thighs and folded her arms, "you need to stay off your leg," she said and he tilted his head.
"You," she pointed, "stay off your leg," she finished, pointing at her own right leg as she lifted it off the ground without even wobbling. He tilted his head to the other side, and the upper mandibles he had flared slightly. It was a new expression, but it almost looked like smiling. She dropped her foot and pointed at him again, "are you hungry?"
His mandibles returned to normal and he rattled as she made a motion of putting something in her mouth after pointing at him. He shook his head with a grunting noise and she dropped her hands, hoping that this meant 'no.' She pointed at his water bowl, to which he grabbed and handed to her with a short single downward nod. Hoping she was interpreting these things right she backed out of the room, kicking her coat behind her as she went, and returned with warm water for him. He took the bowl and drank some before setting it on the nightstand for later.
He looked at her again and put his hand over his face; 'mask where?'
'Hidden,' she gestured and he made the motion for 'give.' She hesitated, not sure what the mask was capable of. He saw her hesitate and put his hand on his face again, apparently their new word for 'mask' and then his hand moved to his mouth and then his chest, and he took a deep breath. This proved a bad idea as he wheezed suddenly and began coughing.
She reflexively moved forward, but the fit was over before she could do anything, and he looked at her waiting for an answer. She gave him the same single nod he had shown her and move downstairs. She slipped out and gently handled the well-worn mask. She moved back upstairs and handed it over to him. He accepted it and put it onto his face with reverence, showing her the two tubes on the side before plugging them in, one after another, causing a small hissing noise.
He then looked at her, and she found the cold soulless mask more pleasant to look at. Thinking about it a while as he looked at her, tilting his head, she got his message. It was helping him breathe. He needed a moister atmosphere, that's why the tubes produced a mist. Nodding to herself she moved to leave the room, pausing as she notice he was watching her intently. She narrowed her eyes and made sure to back out of the room, scooping up the coat and moving downstairs again. She hung the coat up and picked up Smaug, putting him on her shoulder and stroking his back.
She stood behind the chair, eyes unmoving from an undiscerning spot on the wall as she was lost in thought. At the rate he was healing, he could probably begin walking around a bit. She could maybe help him out by making a crutch, but she'd have to go out and cut some limbs for that, she would have to do that at the same time that she was able to go hunting.
She heard a noise and turned, looking up the stairs at the alien who was standing on just one leg, clawed toes dragging against the floor, bracing himself against the wall, looking down as if trying to figure out how to navigate the stairs this way before looking at her as she stormed up towards him.
"No! Bad Jolly Green Giant, go back to the bed!" he didn't move away from the landing, leaving her on the stairs, that much shorter than him than normal. He ignored her pointing and tilted his head, watching as she huffed and put a hand to his stomach, trying to push him back but it was like pushing a boulder. She relented and raised her arm, pointing in a demanding fashion and suddenly had the alien's huge hand over the top of her head. She froze, but he didn't do anything. She then realized he was short-handing her. His message was clear: she couldn't make him do anything.
She stood rooted to the spot, realizing he could probably break her neck with a simple flick of his wrist. But then his hand moved away, claws raking against her scalp, causing a shudder to go down her spine. He then turned and went back into the room as she ordered, and she heard the bed groan. She blinked and took in a breath when her lungs started to burn for air. She swallowed and took the final two steps up and peered around the corner. He was resting on the bed, touching and inspecting the splint before reaching up and taking off his mask. He set this on the nightstand and took his backpack off and set it down beside the bed, his yellow eyes flashing up at her for a moment, void of malicious intent but full of pride.
He then did something amazing. He shifted in the bed, laid his back down against it and was still. He was going to go to sleep. She blinked, hand resting on the corner of the stairwell, looking in on the alien as his breath deepened in a fashion unique to sleep.
She took a step back and backed down the first two steps before pausing on the stairs and blinking. The small space between her lips closed and she felt something fill her, something like calm, and determination. She realized that she was no longer afraid of the alien, he was still dangerous yes, but he just had the opportunity to kill her and didn't, and he trusted her to do him no harm either. Was this a show of truce? If it was, she was also going to have to give in a little.
She made up her mind and headed back downstairs. She put Smaug down on the chair and went back upstairs, tiptoeing, to grab her coat. She put on as many layers as she could, including her scarf, and then went back out into the snow.