In Search of Home

Chapter 42

It was soft and warm and safe in Vok'Rul's hold, but every time Viktor closed his eyes, he would see the ringmaster's face under his lids. His heart still felt like it was in his throat. He was shaking. 

Viktor heard something rattling, and he lifted his head, squinting against the bright lights. Vok'Rul was rummaging in the cabinet above the sink. Once his eyes had gotten adjusted enough so that he could actually see, Viktor was a little surprised to find something like the fridge downstairs in front of him. Vok'Rul was rapidly flicking through things in the cabinet as well as he could with Viktor in his arms. 

He stopped on some sort of glass vial, oblong and dark purple. Vok'Rul rumbled something to Viktor before setting him down on the sink counter. The human pulled up his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee and watching Vok'Rul. The alien was looking worriedly between Viktor and the vial. 

Viktor was exhausted, emotionally and mentally, from that dream. He hadn't had one quite so bad in a while. Certainly not to the extent that he'd injure himself and wake up Vok'Rul. Viktor felt bad, really, for interrupting the alien's sleep. God knows he needed it. He only rarely took meals with all the time spent on the papers, as well. 

"Kor," Vok'Rul told him quietly, face tightening when Viktor twitched more violently than usual. Viktor's arms tightened around his legs, but he remained still otherwise. It wasn't like he had the energy to go anywhere, anyway. Back to his bed so that he could just think about the ringmaster in the dark? Not likely. 

The alien exited the room quickly, and Viktor heard him rummaging back in his bedroom. Maybe he gave up on me, Viktor thought sardonically, sighing into his knees. But Vok'Rul returned shortly, phone in hand. Rukka was already displayed above the circular device. Vok'Rul held it out in front of Viktor, and the human blinked, wondering what the alien was seeing on her end. 

She sounded tired as she spoke, and more than a little confused. Viktor tightened his grip on his legs, fingers going white with the effort. He lifted his head from his knees and watched as Vok'Rul continued speaking, grabbing the vial from the cabinet and shoving it nearly frantic to the phone. 

Rukka seemed exasperated but was nodding. Vok'Rul said, "Tokka," which Viktor was proud to say he recognized, though didn't quite know the meaning of (he thought it might be a thank-you), and hung up the phone. Rukka blinked out of existence before she could even respond. 

"Kinda rude," Viktor told him in a hushed whisper, not wanting to break the quiet atmosphere that nighttime usually brought. Though, Vok'Rul was being anything but quiet. Vok'Rul's fingers brushed against his cheek for a moment before pulling away, grabbing the vial, and unscrewing the top. 

Viktor straightened up, letting his legs hang off over the counter. He rubbed his cast a little, holding it carefully against his chest. It was still pulsing, radiating pain. He eyed the vial warily, glancing up at Vok'Rul in silent question. The alien, predictably, didn't answer him, merely holding it out to him to look at. 

"I'm not taking that," he said, too loud in the small space. It made both of them jump. Viktor braced his good arm against the counter, scooting off and landing on his feet. It jarred every bone in his body. What had he been doing in his sleep that made him hurt this much? Vok'Rul tried to stop him but with the opened vial of... whatever that was, he wasn't able to get a good grip on the human. 

"I don't even know what that is," Viktor told him, trying to stomp down the panic rising in his throat. It was likely nothing bad, obviously. It had been in his bathroom, for Christ's sake. But still, the dream had brought up less than pleasant memories.

It probably hadn't helped that he had seen all those pictures of himself earlier today. Lilac had been kind, relatively, in the arena, but her medicine had hurt. There was no way he knew that this medicine wouldn't do the same.