I'm Glad You Found Me [mpreg]

five

"Alien," he breathes, repeating it just to make sure he heard right, "you're... an alien?"

"Sey," The thi- alien nods, shaking its head before correcting itself, "yes."

It takes a while for the information to really sink in.  Caelum knew that the thing wasn't human, obviously, he just didn't think it was... an alien.

He doesn't say anything, simply grabs their dirty dishes and walks out the room.  A thousand thoughts are spiraling inside his mind as he wraps his head around the idea that the thing inside his room is an alien.  

"They're... real..." he whispers to himself, flinching when the plate slips from his hand and lands inside the dishwasher with a loud clank, "holy shit, they're real."

At the sound of footsteps pausing just behind him, he turns and looks at the alien in confusion.  The alien is leaning against the wall for support, panting softly with brows crinkled in pain.

"Perhaps it was wrong of me to confide in you," it says.

"What?  Wait, where are you going?" Caelum asks as it tries to head toward the door.

"To find my crew.  It'd be best if you forget about this."

The next step it takes leads to it's collapse and Caelum barely makes it in time to stop the nasty fall.

"You can't go anywhere, you're still hurt," he argues.

"You do not want me here," it states.

"Says who?" Caelum counters, flushing slightly under the intense gaze focusing on his face.

"Are you not... you know.." the alien trails off.

"Scared?  Yeah, terrified actually.  But you're hurt and you're... lost.  I know what it's like to be hurt and alone, it's frustrating and much more scary.  I also know that you can barely move without aggravating your wound, so stay.  Just until you get better," he begs.

"I do not believe I will get any better than this," the alien grunts, showing Caelum the black veins he's seen countless of times before, "this is why I need to go."

"What is it?" Caelum asks, his worry and fear increasing.

"Poison," comes the quiet reply.

"Poison?" Caelum bites his lip, a nasty habit he does when he becomes stressed (one he really should stop).

"I've seen many of my kind perish under this poison, a poison that comes from your planet.  It's the only thing that weakens and kills us without the effort of ripping our hearts out."

Caelum flinches at the harsh words, he feels foolish but still says, "I don't understand."

"War," the alien growls, "a war we are now losing because of you and your kind."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Caelum interjects defensively, "I haven't heard of any aliens coming around looking for poison.  You-You're the first alien I've ever met."

"Really?" The alien scoffs in disbelief, "because your scent says otherwise."

Caelum's brows furrow, "What?  What does that mean?"

The alien doesn't reply, instead its breaths come in heavy heaves and Caelum can't help but notice how hot it feels against him, "You're burning up."

"Aliens have a higher body temperature than humans," the alien supplies.

"No matter how high your body temperature normally is, this is not normal," Caelum says, pressing the back of his hand against the alien's warm forehead.

The alien leans into his touch, subconsciously humming in what sounds like pleasurable respite.  Caelum briefly wonders if he feels cooler to the alien than he actually is.

He pushes his questions to the back of his mind and leads the alien back to his room, "Come on, back to bed.  Once you get better you can go back and fight your war or whatever."

"As I've stated before, I do not believe I will get better."

Caelum doesn't say anything, mostly because he doesn't want to believe that's true.  There are more questions than answers at this point and it's leaving him frustrated and cranky.

But his curiosity finally  gets the best of him and he breaks, "And why is that?"

"There is no known cure for this poison, no antidote," the alien explains, "In actuality, I should already be dead."

Caelum tenses at the admission, "But you're not."

"Indeed, I am not."

"Why?"

"I am not sure," it sighs, a whoosh of breath escaping it when it's finally in bed again.

"Did--Did they know you finally caught on?  The ones you're fighting with."

The alien turns to look at Caelum, a contemplative look on its face, "No, we were careful.  There is no reason the Atabilefens would have known we were coming here.  Unless there was a traitor..."

"Or," Caelum adds softly, "they were running out of the poison and needed more."

The alien looks at him questioningly and Caelum indulges him, "You always need a certain amount of anything to make it work.  For humans, you need a certain amount of toxicity of a poison to kill someone, but that amount typically depends on how strong the poison actually is. So if they were running out, they were coming here for more."

"If what you say is true," the alien begins, "then why attack if they barely had poison coating their weapons?" 

"Maybe because they had just enough to incapacitate you," Caelum assumes, "it would be enough to slow you down while they snatch some more."

"What is it?" The alien demands when Caelum hesitates.

"You're right," Caelum whispers, "sometimes even though there's not enough poison to kill you, there's just enough to weaken you... enough to drag out your death."

"Explains why it feels like I am in a limbo of fire and ice."

Caelum stands at that, "Let me take a look."

With his help, the alien removes Caelum's burrowed shirt and the younger boy unravels the dirty makeshift gauze.  The wound looks nasty and infected, no sign of healing and that's truly worrisome.  But he puts up a front and makes to clean the wound regardless of how discouraged he feels now that he knows some of the truth.

Just as he's about to dab it with a towel soaked in rubbing alcohol, the alien grips his thin wrist tightly.  Almost to the point of bruising and crushing.  Caelum, although scared, holds his breath and waits patiently.  

A pink tongue darts out to lick dry lips before releasing him and nodding and Caelum understands that the alien was steeling its nerves.  With the first wipe of the towel, the alien barely holds back a scream.  It burns, it feels like its raw skin is sizzling.

Caelum winces, tears welling up in his eyes.  Every time he's done this the alien had been in the throes of fever, always unconscious.  And although he felt it tense beneath his touch, it's entirely different to actually see it awake and react so violently to pain.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers beneath his breath, "I'm so sorry."

"Do not apologize," the alien says through gritted teeth.

Caelum finishes up as quickly as he can and redresses the wound again.

He can't help but whisper, "I'm sorry," one last time as the alien pants softly, eyes closed and falling into a light sense of sleep.