Black.
Wikus…Wikus? Was that his name? Somewhere, his subconscious dully noted he was showing signs of concussion. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He opened his eyes. More black. No… a streetlight? There aren't any streetlights in District 9… There were streetlights in Johannesburg, one had been right outside his and Tania's house. Tania? Tania… Slowly, bit by bit, it came back to him. He'd dropped off the rose on their porch, he'd been running back, he saw an MNU chopper, and he'd ran down a side alley where he'd…tripped…again.
He tried to push himself up, but his arms felt like lead pipes. He felt something wet oozing out of the plates around his forehead, onto his tentacles and into his mouth. With a fearful shudder he put two and two together, realizing the bitter taste had to be his prawn-blood. He panicked, flailing desperately and trying to get the blood away from his mouth until his head hit a discarded cinderblock. He felt something break. Not the cinderblock. And then everything was black again.
---
Wikus's eyes opened drowsily . His head was throbbing like an Arc gun was rattling off rounds in his skull. Rubbing his neck plates, he pushed himself into a sitting position, recognizing now-familiar surroundings of his shack. He closed his eyes again, feeling a wave of sleepiness washing over him as he laid back down. I wish whoever was making that fucking racket would cut it out. Wait… what? Wikus jumped up and turned around. "And what the fuck are you doing?" he yelled indignantly at the prawn digging through a pile of garbage in a corner of his hut. He might be stuck in this forsaken place with nothing but prawns for company, but Wikus would be damned if he'd let the things rummage through his home! Without turning to look at him, the prawn clicked, "Where do you keep the cat-food?"
"What the hell? Get the fuck out of my house!" demanded Wikus, looking on the ground for something to hit the thief with. Finally grasping a metal rod from the ceiling, he pointed it at the burglar, universal sign language for "I mean business." The prawn wheeled around quickly. He'd been painted white on most of his body, but it'd quickly turned grey with filth and dust. He was smaller than Wikus, about 6'10" and very scrawny. He held his hands in the air; the same pose of surrender Wikus had gotten so used to when dealing with prawns in his old life. It comforted him a bit to see a familiar sight, but the happy feeling quickly evaporated as he realized he didn't wield the same power over them as he used to.
"I saved you." Started the intruder matter-of-factly, "I was out when I wasn't supposed to be. I was trying to get into the grocery store. I wanted cat-food. But I couldn't get through, the gates were reinforced with iron since the last time I broke in. And what do I stumble upon in the middle of the alleyway? A stupid Poleepkwa who fell. So I brought you back. Now where is my reward? Where do you keep your cat-food?"
Wikus shook his head. This explanation was making his head hurt… he just wanted to sleep again. "I don't have any fucking cat-food." He replied weakly, dropping the rod and sitting down on his table.
Without another word, the Poleepkwa spat in disgust and walked out of his shack.
Wikus collapsed backwards on the table, staring at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes tightly. Cat food...looking for cat food...all I have in those garbage piles are things I was using to make the rose for Tania.... for Tania...
His train of thought derailed as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Thanks to all who reviewed. Means a lot to me. =]