Ch. 5
On the Road Again
It felt good to be warm. Sheppard sat several feet from the massive bonfire with his legs pulled up and his arm draped casually over one knee, his hand hanging limply. His other arm rested in his lap, twitching involuntarily at the slightest movement of his body. He really needed to invest such quiet times in sifting through the scattered skin-scraps for something to use as a sling. At the moment, however, his attention was entirely on Junior. The dino-kid was lying cat-like doodling in the rocky floor using a single claw. That claw cut through that rock as though it were clay.
Momma-Beast sidled over to her son and clicked something – comforting words, obviously. Maybe about making friends, maybe about not being bullied forever. Junior clicked something in return.
" Whatever."
Momma-Beast's mouth set in a straight line. She lumbered back over to the huge stone cup with the wood handle, and lifted it to move it back over the fire. John couldn't see what was in it, but he could smell it – like rotting asparagus. He hated asparagus.
John looked back at the kid who continued to doodle. The kid really knew how to brood. John couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Up until now, his opinion of the beast had centered around mistrust, which was a natural inclination seeing as how Junior was a rambunctious kid with the ability to crush every bone in Sheppard's body, or lay him open like a gutted fish. That inclination was gradually dissipating, allowing room for other opinions to form. The kid wasn't bad, and John had to admit that out of all the little dino-rugrats scurrying about, he was glad it had been Junior who had found him.
Junior really was trying to take good care of John.
So with a positive view of Junior in place, John was able to feel pity for him, rather than annoyance at being tied to a leash.
John also had the feeling that Junior was a very sensitive kid. Were Junior human, John would have guessed his age to have been around eight or nine, maybe even ten. Young, innocent, but a little better aware of the world and what went on in it. John only vaguely recalled himself at that age, but he more clearly remembered two friends of his who had both been at opposite ends of the spectrum from eachother. Dean had been what one might call a typical boy – energetic and all over the place. Seth, in John's opinion, had always seemed a little more mature, more sensitive like Junior. John assumed himself to be somewhere in between.
The awareness of the two boy's differences came about when they had stumbled on a wounded bird one day after coming home from school. Dean had wanted to toss the bird to a dog or cat to see what would happen. Seth had wanted to bring the bird home and fix it. John knew the bird was going to die since its chest had been split open by something, and opted for putting it out of its misery. Seth agreed, and John had twisted its neck, which had almost made him puke. Dean had volunteered to do it but his method would have involved crushing the bird with a big rock, and that just hadn't sat right. Seth then buried the bird.
John nodded to himself. Junior was like Seth. Any other kid would have used John's body as a toy, thinking him dead, but not Junior. Junior had gone through the trouble of saving him even though there might have been a chance John was beyond saving. The kid had heart, another reason to be thankful that this particular critter had stumbled upon him.
John rose painfully to his feet, and approached his 'owner'. He stood two feet from Junior's head, and waited until the young creature finally took notice of him. Junior lifted his horned, furry cranium and twisted it around to look at John forlornly.
John gave him a wan, sympathetic smile. " It's tough making friends, isn't it? Hell, McKay keeps griping about how I keep making all the new friends and I still think it's hard. Of course – not hard like what you're going through. I'm mean, that's gotta be rough not having anyone to play with..."
Junior looked away, returning to his doodling. John couldn't help feeling a little affronted, though he knew good and well that to Junior all John's rambling was nothing more than inane chatter, and probably thought Sheppard was begging for food or something along those lines.
Still, John's pity remained intact. He took a step forward, and reached out a slightly unsteady hand until it made contact with the warm, leathery scales of Junior's jaw. Junior's head turned, and John snatched his hand back.
" Whoa! Invasion of space, right, sorry."
Junior just cocked his head and blinked. Then, slowly, a small smile spread on the creature's face.
Bit by bit, the tension in John's muscles eased. " Yeah, there we go. Feeling a lot better, right? Glad to break in a little sunshine there."
The creature trilled.
Momma Beast came around the fire and set a cup in front of Junior. She had the 'pot' in her other claw, and poured some of the contents - some kind of neon-yellow seaweed – into the cup. Junior used his claw to scoop up a bunch of the putrid smelling plant and drop it into his mouth. Momma Beast continued around the fire and bellowed out a call. Big brother, Big sister, and Little sister came charging out of the various tunnels of the cavern home, snatching cups and holding them up for Mom to scoop out more veggie-slop. Poppa Beast entered a few minutes after the kids and took up the biggest of the cups.
All that's missing is Goldilocks, though there were far too many 'bears' for that analogy.
Junior pulled out some of the sea-weed/grass or whatever it was and set it on the ground in front of Sheppard. His portion was too big to finish even half of, and from the smell alone he doubted he would be able to make a dent in it. But he was hungry, hungry enough for yellow, asparagus-smelling sea-weed. He touched the stuff, which was warm, and exceedingly slimy. Pulling a piece of the stuff off was harder than separating slices of extra cheese pizza. At the moment, he would have sold his soul for a slice of pizza.
Once he was able to break the strings of slime trying to hold the plant together, he looked it over with a churning gut and a small grimace.
" Well, two choices John. Don't eat and starve. Eat it now and puke later." He supposed he could take his chances. He held his breath, opened his mouth, and popped the stuff inside. He then swallowed without chewing and was surprised to discover that the plant had no taste whatsoever, which was preferable enough for John. However, the sensation of it sliding down his throat reminded him too much of swallowing a slug. Not that he knew what swallowing a slug was like, but he was pretty sure this was close.
The dino-folk finished their sea-weed off within minutes. With their cups empty, Momma went around with what looked to be a basket woven with branches and covered at the bottom with skins. She stopped in front of Junior and took handfuls of shredded meat from the basket to put in his cup, then continued on to the rest of the family. Junior set bits of meat on the floor, and John gladly ripped off a few bites. Chewing it, however, was even more tricky than it had been the first time. It was like eating beef jerky, only beef jerky eventually gave way to his saliva and teeth. This stuff refused to break down, and he was forced to swallow it whole, and shivered as it scraped his throat.
As far as his stomach was concerned, he was done, but he forced himself to swallow another small piece of the plant.
SGSGSGSGSG
Night and day didn't really exist underground, but for the creatures that didn't matter. After dinner and Poppa Beast trilling and bellowing something that could only have been a story, the kids headed off to their respective cave-rooms. Junior carried John up the incline to his own den, and set him on one of the skins, but kept the leash tied around his wrist. The kid curled up on a pile of skins after clicking something to John, then fell immediately to sleep.
John wasn't so lucky. His injuries and the stress of being around giant creatures had worn him out to the point that he was desperate for sleep, but certain organs – namely his stomach – refused to let him. The discomfort had begun sometime during the story, but John had chalked it up to indigestion, until that discomfort began to escalate. He curled up on the skin Junior had set him on and clutched his cramping stomach that was making loud, unsettling noises. The pain in his gut was increasing fast, as though something were trying to eat its way out of him. Sweat dripped down his face and neck, and soaked his clothes. He writhed while remaining curled, and soon the pain reached the crescendo where he could not longer hold back his whimpers and groans of agony.
" S-s-s-stop. P-please stop," he begged his gut. He gasped out, sucked in a breath, and held it. He heard, from a distance, a frantic trilling. Something touched his shoulder, nudging him, trying to get him to roll onto his back, but movement made John's head spin even with his eyes closed. He felt as though the floor had dropped away, and he was tumbling into infinity, falling into another endless chasm.
Searing liquid shot into his throat. He rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself up with one arm just as the bile reached his mouth. Everything he had managed to down poured from him in one single heave, splashing onto the skin. When he stopped, he sucked in a long, ragged breath, then heaved again.
Junior squeaked in alarm.
When John's stomach emptied, the pain vanished, and he dropped, rolling onto his back panting and coughing. He opened his eyes to meet the wide, luminescent gaze of Junior, shrilling out his alarm.
" I'm okay, pal," John breathed out, and pat Junior's beaked snout. " I'm okay." And he knew that he was. He turned his head to look at the puddle of stomach content and undigested sea-weed and meat. He didn't need Beckett present to tell him that the pain was the result of something he had eaten, and considering that the last pieces of meat he'd ingested hadn't left him rolling in agony, that only left the iridescent plant.
John didn't have super saliva, and he was pretty certain the digestive juices of the creature's was just as powerful. Their food – most of their food – could not be his food. Even the meat was questionable.
John's eyelids slid closed. " I'm going to die here." Unless, of course, he could find something a little more palatable.
He felt something slide beneath his back, and opened his eyes to find himself being lifted into sitting position. Junior then reached out and pulled a shallow cup toward the skin, tilting toward John just enough for him to reach in and cup some water into his hand. He sucked the water up, rinsed, spit, then took water to drink.
" Thanks kid," he breathed in relief. " That hit the spot."
Junior pushed the cup away while carefully lowering John back onto the skin. Once the claw slid away from his back, he felt his eyelids slide close against his will. Puking had been the last straw for him energy-wise.
" You're a good owner, kid," John murmured. " Good owner..." He was asleep the moment his head touched the skin.
SGSGSGSGSG
John was falling, and falling, and falling, forever into the void. He didn't have the breath to scream.
Sheppard awoke with a gasp and a hammering heart, lifting his head and groping for something to grab. Except that he didn't have to when he felt the solid ground and soft leather beneath his fingers. He blinked to clear his eyes, and reality came flooding back into his awareness.
John pushed himself up onto his elbow, but his body felt too stiff to move any further. He glanced around with heavy-lidded eyes, and scrunched his brow at seeing Junior bounding about the cave, gathering items into skins, then bundling them up to drag them down the incline. He returned only seconds later to do it again.
John forced his body to rise the extra few inches so that he was sitting up. He rubbed the side of his face, and watched as Junior cleared the cave of his belongings.
" Now what?" he mumbled. He was tempted to drop back onto his own bedding and return to mental oblivion, despite the falling sensation that would probably follow. Junior, however, cleared the cave quickly, and soon returned for him. He took up the leash and gave it a gentle tug, chirping excitedly and grinning bight-eyed like the child that he was.
John winced at the noise. His head was pounding as though stuffed with numerous mini jack-hammers.
" All right, all right, I'm coming." He was slow about getting up, so Junior trotted over to him and slipped a claw gingerly behind his back. John shivered at the feel of it against his (to his chagrin) delicate spine. But he put his hand on the claw and let it support him as he rose onto his feet. He wavered for a moment until he locked his knees, then shook his head to clear it. The jack-hammers started up again.
" Son of a...!" he growled, massaging his eyes with one hand. Adding to his growing misery was the gnawing of his empty stomach.
Junior gave the leash another slight tug, so John stumbled after. Inside the main cavern Junior's family was busy gathering items into skins, tyeing them up then gathering them onto a sledge formed from branches weaved intricately together. The massive blaze was now nothing more than a pit of smoldering charcoal and ashes.
John arched an eyebrow. Moving Day?
Once the sledge was loaded, Poppa Beast tied the ropes connected to the front of the sledge around his neck, and Momma did the same with the ropes at the back. They then headed from the cave, and slipped over the edge to go sliding down the wall carrying the sledge between them. The kids followed after with Junior picking up John like before. Once again came the thrilling rush of flight as Junior scaled the wall like a literal spider monkey. Once on the ground, Junior lowered John and let him slide off his arm.
The place was packed with dino-folk. The majority of adults carried sledges between couples, with a few standing on the outskirts of the gathered, carrying long metal objects that resembled giant machetes. It reminded John of the Bedouin tribes of the Middle East, or a caravan of reptile gypsies, or...
John blinked when realization suddenly struck. Migration. It wasn't moving day, it was migration day.
Junior wound the leash around his wrist to keep John close. He then handed John a small chunk of dried meat held between the tips of two claws. John took it and began gnawing on it voraciously, chewing against the ache in his jaw. He glanced around nervously, especially at the dino-kids that were hovering nearby, staring at him curiously. John moved a little closer to Junior.
A trumpeting bellow vibrated the air, and John cringed when the sound drilled into his ears. The moment the call died, the massive caravan began to move. John had to walk fast to keep up with Junior's wide stride, all while concentrating on chewing the meat without choking. He kept his eyes on the ground to avoid seeing the massive feet pounding around him, but couldn't ignore the way the ground vibrated like the onset of an earthquake.
In a situation like this, it sucked to be small.
SGSGSGSGSG
A/N: I apologize if the song On the Road Again becomes stuck in your head. It's forever getting stuck in mine whenever we go on a trip, and I'm not really that fond of the song. Much more misery ahead for poor Shep. Can't have a migration without a little misery – and danger. Stay tuned loyal readers!