Snake Boy

~ Chapter Three ~

Logan crawled in the window of his room, dropping the couple feet down onto his bed. His parents had agreed years ago to re-purpose their basement to be his room. They really never came down, usually calling for him to come upstairs when they needed to talk. And when they did come downstairs, they would always knock first.

He looked up through the window and offered the snake boy a hand. The poor kid was shivering, even with Roman's letterman wrapped around his shoulders.

He shook his head and carefully wriggled through the window, dropping next to Logan and nearly collapsing. Logan grabbed his arm and helped him off the bed.

"You'll be okay here." He promised quietly, leading him over to the large papasan couch. "I'll get you some clothes and a blanket."

The boy blinked at him a few times as he sank into the seat. Logan offered an awkward smile and turned away, going to his closet across the room. He was taller than the boy by a good half a dozen inches, which was impressive considering he himself was not tall. 

He found a knitted sweater his grandmother had made him years ago, and a pair of sweatpants. Both were soft from use, but Logan rarely wore them anymore.

"Here, I'll go get a blanket from upstairs while you put these on."

He set the clothes next to the boy and turned away, walking to the door that led to the stairs and creeping through the house. It was nearly two in the morning, after all.

The closet door creaked a little, and Logan paused nervously. He listened for either of his parents moving, and after a minute of silence he sighed softly and picked up a blanket from the pile on the shelf. As an afterthought, he grabbed the first aid kit Pop kept there as well.

He tiptoed back into the basement and peeked into his room. The snake boy was standing in the middle of the room, looking around nervously. He was wearing Logan's clothes now, and holding his old rags as if he didn't know what to do with them.

"Here, I'll take those." Logan set the first aid kit aside. He took the rags and then offered the boy the blanket.

As he went to toss the rags in the trash, the boy waved his hands frantically, a clear motion to stop. Logan looked up at him and he pointed at the rags, then tapped at the left side of his chest.

"These are important to you?" Logan asked slowly. The boy nodded quickly. "Okay... can I wash them for you? Clean them?"

He paused, looking at the rags in Logan's hands, then nodded again.

Logan smiled and set them on his desk to throw in the washing machine with his next load of laundry.

"Are you hurt at all?" He asked as the boy, grabbing the first aid kit again.

The boy blinked and Logan frowned, trying to think. There had to be some way or another they could communicate, even if they couldn't speak to each other.

"Do you have any way of communicating?"

Again a pause, then the boy made a vague motion that might have been a scribble.

"You can write?" Logan jumped on it. Any help would do. The boy nodded at him. "Okay, fantastic- hang on."

He turned to his desk, grabbing an empty notebook and a pen. The boy took it, holding it awkwardly. Logan noticed for the first time that the backs of both hands were covered in scales as well.

The boy scribbled for a few moments, then showed Logan.

'I speak almost nothing. But I write.'

"Anything will help." Logan assured with a small smile. "Are you injured anywhere?"

Another line of writing. It was chicken-scratch, quite reminiscent of a small child's handwriting, but Logan didn't mind.

'I do not know. No pain, but... I know pain too well.'

Logan nodded. If he was injured regularly, he'd have a hard time determining whether he was in need of medical attention.

"If you take the sweater off again for a moment, I could check your back. I didn't see any on your chest before." He offered quietly.

The boy paused, then nodded and sat up, tugging the sweater off carefully and turning.

Logan glanced over his back. For the most part he seemed fine, aside from a single, fairly thin cut across his non-scaled shoulder blade.

"Hold still, I'm going to cover this cut up." Logan said quietly. He opened the first aid kit and picked up an antibiotic ointment.

Working carefully, he dabbed the ointment over the cut and bandaged it carefully with a few larger bandages and then taping them down with medical tape.

"Hopefully that will stay. It shouldn't take long to heal, it wasn't very deep." He assured as he put away the kit. "You can put the shirt back on now."

The boy nodded and slipped into the shirt again. His stomach suddenly rumbled and he flinched away from Logan in what seemed to be an automatic reaction.

Logan frowned. "Are you hungry?"

After a few moments, he received a small nod. He got up, picking up the kit to put it aside. "I'll get you something. Do you eat anything specific?"

The boy picked up the notebook and wrote a line.

'Meat, if possible'

Logan nodded, thinking. He and Dad had made steak for dinner the other day. Maybe there was some left.

He tiptoed upstairs again, returning the first aid kit to its spot and then creeping into the kitchen.

"Logan?" A voice asked quietly as he opened the fridge. Logan jumped and whirled around.

"Dad- sorry, I couldn't sleep and I needed something to drink."

His dad smiled and shuffled over to him, messing up his hair.

"No worries, Fish, but try to get some sleep if you can."

"I will." Logan promised. He stood where he was as his dad left the room, waiting until he heard the door at the end of the hall close before moving. Only then did he quietly open the refrigerator again.