The Gnawing Hunger

The Aftermath

The idea of leaving the cabin had come up briefly in passing. As some of them didn't want to be in there anymore, he didn't want to be. Not after Arthur's murder. Death. Animal attack? Or whatever you could call that. Bo wasn't entirely certain what happened to Arthur could be classified as.

Is it still a murder if people think an animal did it?

That was a problem within itself. Was it truly an animal that did it? Or was it an alien of some kind? If so, where in the Hell did it come from? Why in the world did it force feed him? Then kiss him on top of that? Was it even really considered an actual kiss? What else could he even consider that? It certainly felt like one in his mind. The tongue pressing against his the way it had done. Just what else could he call that? If it wasn't a kiss, then what in the Hell even was it? Fuck, why did he even really care for?

The monster tore open his best friend for fuck's sake! Fed him a part of him that he didn't even know! Smashed his head on the ground and gave him a minor concussion! Which he was still reeling from. If he was his normal self, he would be freaking out thanks to this. It didn't matter if it kissed him for real or not.

Who gave a damn if it did?

Maybe it was just the trauma of it all? His brain is focusing on something else to take it off the death of Arthur? This seemed so very plausible in his mind. Or at least he didn't want to let go of the idea. As what else could he possibly call any of this? What in the Hell was wrong with him? Just what in the world was going on with himself? His gut was strangely still aching from all of this. In ways Bo didn't entirely understand or didn't really want to. Didn't know why it was hurting like this. Why in the Hell did he feel like he was starving?

Normally, Bo didn't feel like this. In fact his appetite would diminish when he got this stressed out. So why in the Hell did he feel, empty? It didn't make any form of sense to him.

Also it wasn't all that important right now.

What was important was what they were going to do with Arthur's things. Mostly, who was going to be taking them to his home. Bo felt that he should do it. But Xander insisted that he should do it. As the hospital suggested that he not drive for a while. Even with a minor concussion, it wasn't all that wise.

Probably, not for a few days at the most. Maybe, a week or so.

Though a week felt a little bit like overkill in his mind. Since the doctor had only suggested at least forty-eight hours. And then longer if he couldn't turn his head. Which his Mom said they would go back to the Emergency Room if he couldn't. Another thing that Bo had felt was a little bit overkill.

Though he didn't dare voice this to his Mom. Of course. Instead he just let her worry over him. Letting her take him to the room him and Xander were in. The room that Arthur had formerly slept in. Which was still unmade from when his best friend had gotten up earlier in the day. He ignored it as he climbed into his bed. His Mom gave him some pain medicine along with a cup of water. He quickly took them as she watched him the whole time. It was stuff that he wished he had gotten in the hospital. As his headache had been pretty bad then. They hadn't even given him an ice pack when they were there. But, that didn't matter. What mattered was getting a nap in and hopefully ridding himself of it. Eleanore took the cup from him once he finished taking his pills. She stated,"Get some sleep, baby."

"I wake you up later for dinner.",she promised. Which he wholeheartedly agreed to as he laid down on the bed. Giving her a small nod before laying his head on his pillow. Closing his eyes as he listened to his Mom turn off the light. Quietly shutting the door behind herself. He didn't know how long it was until he felt himself drift off. But he must have at some point in time. As not that long later, there was an odd noise that slightly jostled him up.